


A Thousand Words

by TenshiWarrior



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-04-19 04:31:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 60,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4732874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TenshiWarrior/pseuds/TenshiWarrior
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Watson is an army doctor trying to get used to the civilian life again, but is having a difficult time doing so. A friend of his suggests that he get a flatmate and may have found the perfect flatmate. Or should he say, the perfect pair? Meet Sherlock Holmes and his little sister named Violet. Both of them being the world's only pair of consulting detectives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Odd Pair

**Author's Note:**

> The following story takes place during the Sherlock Series. If you have not yet watched it and you are interested. there will be spoilers. If you don’t want to know them, than please I advise you not to read ahead. For those of you that have watched it however, it is also fair to warn you that this story may or may not be told differently than the series so different things may happen or it might not. With that being said I do not own any of the characters from Sherlock except for my OCs with that being said enjoy. And please support the official release of the BBC Sherlock series.

- ** _New Scotland Yard_** -

Lately around the city of London, there have been a total of three suicides all of them being the same. No one knows why, but three different people all took the same pill that had killed them within a matter of minutes. Everyone that knew these three people all knew that none of them were trouble, so they did not have a reason what-so-ever to do what they did. Everyone has been saying it differently; some say it was actual suicides others say they were murders somehow. No one knew the answer exactly.

At a press conference an Inspector Detective, one by the name of Lestrade, and a Sergeant named Sally Donovan, were currently holding a press conference to announce and answer any questions they have about the case.

“The body of Beth Davenport, Junior Minister for Transport, was found last night on a building site in Greater London.” Donovan explained to the press, “Preliminary investigations suggests that this was a suicide. We can confirm that this apparent suicide closely resembles those of Sir Jeffery Patterson and James Phillimore. In light of this, these incidents are now being treated as linked. The investigation is ongoing, but Detective Inspector Lestrade will be taking your questions now.”

All of the people from the press started to talk all at once till Lestrade picked a person from the front row.

“Detective Inspector? How can the suicides be linked?” The man asked.

Lestrade had answered, “Well they all took the same poison and they were all found in places that they no reason to be. None of them show prior intentions--”

“But you can’t have serial suicides.” The man said cutting him off.

“Well, apparently you can.” Lestrade said

Another man from the second row asked, “These three people, there’s nothing that links to them?”

He answered, “We haven’t found a link, yet. But we’re looking for it, there has to be one.”

All of a sudden everyone’s mobile phone let out a ringtone which caused them even Donovan, to take out their phones to check what it was. It was a text message that only had but a single word; it had read, “ ** _WRONG._** ”

Everyone was confused by the message, but Donovan had a pretty good idea of who had sent it.

She placed her phone down as she said, “If you all got texts just ignore them.”

“It just says wrong.” A person had pointed out.

“Yeah, well just ignore that.” She said to the crowd, “If there are no more questions for Detective Lestrade, I’m going to bring this session to an end.”

Another had asked, “If these are suicides, what are you investigating exactly?”

The inspector replied, “As said before these suicides are linked. It is indeed an unusual we’ve got our best people investigating.”

Everyone’s phone let out another ringtone causing everyone to look. Once again it had just said one word, “ ** _WRONG._** ”

“It says wrong again.” A Reporter pointed out.

All Donovan and Lestrade did was clear their throats.

“Just one more question.” A woman in the back row said, “Is there any chance that these are murders? And if they are, is this the work of serial killer?”

Lestrade let out sigh and twiddle his thumbs before replying, “I… Know that you’d like writing about these, but they do appear to be suicides. We know the difference. The poison was clearly self-administered”

The woman had asked, “Yes but if these are murders, how do people keep themselves safe?”

“Well than just, don’t commit suicide.” He said.

The crowd of course was left in silence. “Daily Mail” Donovan whispered.

Lestrade had said to the crowd, “Obviously, this is a frightening time for people, but all anyone has to do is exercise reasonable precautions. We are all safe as we want to be.”

Once again the mobile let a ringtone of course it had read “ ** _WRONG._** ” again Lestrade’s let out a ringtone and he went to check. He’s was a different message from the others. His had read, “ ** _You know where to find us. -SH._** ”

All Lestrade did was let out sigh and but his phone back in his pocket.

“That’ll be all.” Lestrade said, “Thank you for your time.”

With that said, the press conference came to an end. Lestrade and Donovan both walked out of the conference hall and were now walking through the various offices. She had said to the inspector, “You’ve gotta stop them from doing that. They’re making us look like idiots.”

“If you can tell me exactly how they do it, then I’ll get them to stop.” Lestrade said to her, “Check over the evidence we have so far again. I’ll see if I can get them on it.”

* * *

 

- ** _Local Park Somewhere in London_** -

It had already been weeks; many weeks of sleepless nights for army doctor John Watson. He had just gotten back to London after Afghanistan and like many soldiers, he saw things that weren’t meant for the eyes of a man. His therapist kept on saying that he had post traumatic stress disorder because of the war, but often he didn’t think this to be true. Not once during the time that he was back didn’t sleep a wink. He found himself staying up late at night since the sounds of gunshots and bombs kept him up. He often found himself crying from the nightmares.

He thought a stroll would do him some good, as he walked through a local park with the help of his cane. He had eventually walked pass a familiar face which he didn’t recognize at first until he called out to him.

“John!” He said, “John Watson!”

John turned to him with confusion, not really sure why or how he knew his name. “It’s me Mike.” The man said, “Mike Stamford we were in Barts together.” Just like that the memory came back to him.

“Oh yes, Mike hello.” John said, taking his head and shaking it.

“I know, I got fat.” Mike said.

John had immediately said denying it (Even though it was true), “No, no.”

“I heard that you were abroad.” Mike said, “You were somewhere getting shot, what happened?”

“I got shot.” John simply stated.

They found themselves sitting on a bench with coffees in each of their hands. Both of them were catching up. “You still at Barts than?” John asked Mike.

Mike replied, “Teaching now. Yeah, bright young things like we used to be. God how I hate them.” They both couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “How about you?” Mike had asked, “You just staying in town till you get sorted out?”

“I can’t afford London on an Army Pension.” John replied.

“And you couldn’t bear to be anywhere else.” Mike said, “That’s not the John Watson I know.”

“It’s unavoidable.” John said clenching his hand which was trembling. He let out a sigh and couldn’t help but think, “I’m not the old me anymore.”

Mike had asked him, “Couldn’t Harry help you out?”

John couldn’t help but say sarcastically, “Yeah, like that’s gonna happen.”

Mike had suggested him, “Maybe you can get a flatshare?”

“Come on.” John said, “Who’d want me for a flatmate?”

He had heard Mike chuckle to himself, which of course confused him. “What?” He had asked.

Mike had replied, “Nothing, it’s just, you’re the second person to say that to me today.”

John gave a quizzical expression to Mike; Curiosity fled over him, “Who was the first?”

* * *

 

- ** _St. Bartholomew's Hospital; Mortuary_** -

A man with raven black hair that looked to be in his 20s or 30s ( _AN: I don’t know his exact age, so sue me_ ) was looking into a body bag which of course contained a corpse. He wasn’t the only one in the room though. There was a woman who had brunette hair and a ponytail was pacing. The second was a fifteen year old that also had black hair which was a short hair medium hairstyle a-symmetrical wore a casual gothic outfit; she sat on the table that the body was on ( _Despite it taking the most space, but she didn’t mind it_ ) while she messed around with a rubix cube and she swung her legs.

The man took a whiff of the body, “How fresh?” He asked the woman with the ponytail whose name was Molly.

“Just in.” She replied, “67 natural causes. Used to work here. I knew him, he was nice.”

He had zipped the body bag back up, “Fine.” He said, “We’ll start with the riding crop.” He smiled at the woman.

The fifteen year old looked at the man; understanding the look that he was giving her she moved off the table putting the rubix cube away in her bag.

The next minute, he was hitting the body with a whip that was usually used for horses. The fifteen year old was writing notes on her notepad, while Molly couldn’t help but flinch every time his whip made contact with the corpse. Soon enough he ceased his whipping.

“So… Bad day was it?” Molly said jokingly all while laughing nervously.

He took out a small book and grabbed his coat and scarf, “I need to know what bruises forms in the next five minutes.” He said as he wrote, “A man’s alibi’s depends on it, text me.”

Molly cleared her throat and said, “Listen I was wondering… Maybe later we could, um…”

The man noticed something new from Molly. “Are you wearing lipstick?” He asked, “You weren’t wearing lipstick before.”

Molly blushed slightly; the young teen noticed this and looked to the man. “I…” Molly said, “I refreshed it a bit.”  

“Sorry, you were saying?” He asked her dismissing it immediately.

“I was wondering if you would like to get coffee afterwards?” Molly asked her with her face still slightly red. He closed his small notebook and placed it in his pocket. “Black two sugars please.” He said, “I’ll be upstairs.”

He walked out of the room, leaving Molly saddened by what just happened. The teen couldn’t help but shake her head. “Violet’s sorry about brother.” The teen named Violet had said, “Molly knows how dense Sherlock can be.”

She gave Molly a comforting pat on the back and went to follow the man which she called brother taking her bag and coat with her.

They were soon in one of the labs within Barts. Sherlock was testing while Violet sat in the seat next to him while drawing something in sketch pad. The door opened; John and Mike walked into the room. All Sherlock did was give a glance and went back to his work, while Violet looked over to John tilting her head in curiosity before going back to her drawing.  

John looked around the room, “A bit different from day.” He said.

“You have no idea.” Mike said.

“Mike can I borrow your phone?” Sherlock asked him, “There’s no signal on mine or Violets.”

“What’s wrong with the landline?” Mike said.

“Rather text.” He replied immediately.

Mike looked through his pockets, “Sorry, it’s in the other coat.”

John rummaged through his pockets and got out his phone, “Here.” He said holding his phone out to him, “You can use mine.”

“Oh.” Sherlock said a bit taken back, “Thank you.” He got from his seat and walked over to him.

“He’s an old friend of mine, John Watson.” Mike said.

Sherlock took the phone from John and started to type. “Afghanistan or Iraq?” He had suddenly asked, surprising John a bit. Violet looked again, being more curious than before and Mike couldn’t help but smile. “Sorry?” He said.

Sherlock had asked, “Which was it? Afghanistan or Iraq?”

John honestly didn’t know how to answer exactly; but eventually he replied, “Afghanistan… Sorry how did you--?”

Molly walked into the room, and Sherlock cut him off. “Ah Molly, coffee thank you.” He said handing John back his phone. He took the coffee from Molly, and once again noticing something different from her again. “What happened to the lipstick?” He asked her.

“It wasn’t working for me.” She replied.

“Really?” He said questioningly, “I thought it was big improvement, mouths too small now.”

“Okay…” Molly said sadly.

Violet gave herself a face palm and shook her head; her brother was dense when it came to romance. It was sad but true.

“Tell me, do you dislike the violin?” Sherlock asked, sitting back down next to Violet. John did a double take. “What?” He asked him.

Sherlock replied after taking a couple of sips from his coffee, “I play the violin when I’m thinking, sometimes I talk for days on end.” He then gestured to Violet, “And this one here goes in her own little world whenever she’s drawing, painting or doing a puzzle, would that bother you? Potential flatmates should know the worst about each other.”

Sherlock smiled at John, still confused by what he was saying. John turned to Mike, “Did… Did you tell them about me?” He asked out of curiosity.

Mike shook his head as he said, “Nope, not a word.”

He couldn’t help but ask, “Then who said anything about flatmates?”

“I did.” Sherlock replied as he got on his coat and blue scarf. Violet started to gather up her things and placing it in her leather cross bag, and put on her black faux wool flare peacoat, red scarf and gloves.

Sherlock had said, “Told Mike this morning I was looking for a flatmate. Now here he is just after lunch, with an old friend clearly home from military service in Afghanistan. Got my eye on a nice little place in central London, together we ought to be able to afford it. We’ll meet there tomorrow evening, seven o’clock. Sorry got to dash, left my riding crop in the mortuary.”

He proceeded to walk out the door with Violet following him not too far behind him.

“Is that?” John said causing him to stop in his tracks.

Sherlock turned him, “Is that what?”

“We’ve only just met and we’re gonna be flatmates.” He said.

Sherlock turned to Violet; all she did was shrug to him. He turned back to John. “Problem?” He asked.

John had replied by saying, “We don’t know a thing about each other, I don’t know where we’re meeting, I don’t even know your name.” He turned to Violet, “Well I don’t know either of your names.”

Sherlock took a deep breath and said simultaneously, “We both know you’re an army doctor and you’ve been invalidated home from Afghanistan. You’ve got a brother who worries about you, but you won’t go to him for help because you don’t approve of him, possibly because he’s an alcoholic; more likely he walked out on his wife recently. And we know that your therapist thinks your limp's psychosomatic, quite correctly I’m afraid.”

John was surprised at this. In his head he didn’t know what to think exactly. HOW? This is something he thought in his head.

“That’s enough to go about don’t you think?” Sherlock said, walking out of the door.

Before he did he looked back in and said, “The names Sherlock Holmes and the address is 221B Baker Street.” With a wink and a click of his tongue he left saying to Mike, “Afternoon.” The door closed shut leaving John speechless. He got his attention when he heard the voice from the young teenager, “Violet Holmes.”

John turned to her, “Sorry, what did you say?”

She had replied while pointing to herself, “This ones name is Violet Holmes. She likes to be called Violet or Vi though; it can work either way with this one. She hopes she can get along with John Watson.”

She walked out the door and said, “This one says hope to see you soon.” And she went to catch up with her brother.

John turned to Mike. “Yeah.” Mike said, “They’re always like that.”

John couldn’t help but stand there pretty much in shock. “ **WHAT JUST HAPPENED?!** ” He thought internally.

* * *

 

- ** _Later that Night; John’s Flat_** -

John sat on his bed within his small flat trying to think about what had just happened today. He just met a man that basically told him to his life story, and a teenage girl who might as well be as smart as the man. Sherlock and Violet Holmes. He was still wondering how he did exactly. How did he know about Afghanistan, how did he know about Harry, how did he know anything about it?!

Than there was Violet. His little sister from what he could tell. He didn’t know if she was as smart as him, but he couldn’t help but wonder about her. Like why exactly was she talking in third person about pretty much everything even herself. He just assumes that it’s some sort of mental disorder that she has but it still struck him as odd.

As of right now, those two were the only things on there mind right now.

His phone let out a chime. He checked it and saw that someone had just sent him a text. It had read, “ ** _If brother has green ladder, arrest him. -SH._** ”

“ ** _What does that even mean?_** ” John thought to himself.

He turned over to his laptop. He went to over to his desk and opened up his computer. Once he was on google, he looked up the names, “Sherlock & Violet Holmes.”

**  
“ _Who are you two?_ ” **


	2. 221B Baker Street

- ** _Next Day_** -

John had finally managed to find the address after hours and hours of searching for the address. Honestly he didn’t know why it took him so long to find it; He only figured he was away from London longer than he thought. He approached the door and proceeded to knock. Just as he did, a cab pulled up and there emerged both Sherlock and Violet.

“Hello.” Sherlock said getting his attention; he paid the cab driver..

“This one says hi.” Violet said to him.

John turned to the both of them. “Hello Mr. Holmes and Miss Holmes.” John said.

“Sherlock, please.” He said, taking his hand and shaking it.

“This one likes to be called Violet.” She said shaking John's hand after Sherlock, “Or Vi if that’s what John prefers.”

John looked up to where he assumed they would be staying. “Well this is a prime spot. Must be expensive right?”

“Mrs. Hudson, the landlady.” Sherlock said putting his hands behind his back, “She gave me a special deal, owes me a favor. A few years back her husband got himself sentenced to death in Florida. Violet and I were able to help out.”

“Oh you, stopped her husband from being executed?” He asked them.

Violet shook her head and replied, “Violet and Sherlock ensured it.”

John was about to say something, when the door opened. The person that greeted them was Mrs. Hudson. “Sherlock, Violet!” She said with a smile, giving Sherlock a hug which he returned, and than to Violet which she returned.

“Mrs. Hudson, Doctor John Watson.” Sherlock said introducing him to her.

John and Mrs. Hudson exchanged greetings and then the trio headed inside. They gone up the stairs and entered the flat that they were going to stay in. They entered to what John saw was the living room that was connected to the kitchen. Violet threw her jacket, scarf, gloves and bag on the couch while Sherlock hung his coat on the coat hanger. John took a closer look at the flat seeing that it was mess. It was filled with papers and other thing he only assumed that belonged to Sherlock.

He also saw a couple of paint jars, brushes, charcoal pencils and carving tools scattered around the room which he only assumed belonged to Violet.

“This place looks good.” John commented, “It would be nice to live here.”

“My thought exactly!” Sherlock said, “We just moved in here straight away and--”

“As soon as we get all this rubbish cleaned up.” John said at the same time Sherlock spoke. “Oh.” Sherlock couldn’t help but say.

John looked around the flat again, “So is most of this stuff yours?” He asked Sherlock.

“Violet and Sherlock can obviously tidy up.” Violet said as she poorly attempted to get her art supplies together. Sherlock did a poor attempt as well.

John was startled a bit when a skull sitting on top of the fireplace. “Is that a skull?” He asked pointing to it with his cane.

“Friend of mine.” Sherlock replied, “When I say friend…” He went back to doing his poorly attempt at cleaning.    

“What do you think than Watson?” Mrs. Hudson asked him, “There’s another bedroom upstairs if you’ll be needing two bedrooms.”

“Of course we’ll be needing two.” John said a bit taken back by the question.

Mrs. Hudson said, “Oh don’t worry, there’s all sorts around here. Miss Turner next door got married ones.”

  
“ ** _Now I’m a bit worried…_** ” John thought in his head.

“Sherlock, Violet.” Mrs. Hudson said, “The mess you two made.”

All Violet did was give a awkward smile, and Sherlock simply ignored her. She went to clean up the kitchen while John took a sit on one of the chairs. He cleared his throat and said, “I looked you both up on the internet last night.”

Both him and Violet stopped their half assed attempt in cleaning up the flat. “Anything interesting?” Sherlock asked with his hands in his pockets.

“Found your website.” John replied, “The Science of Deduction.”

“What did you think?” He asked.

John replied after rubbing his head, “You said you could identify a software designer by his tie and an airline pilot by his left thumb.”

“Yes.” He said turning to him, “I can read your military career in your face and your leg and your brothers drinking habits on your mobile phone.”

“How?” The doctor asked him.

All Sherlock did was give him a smile. John turned to Violet, “And you graduated high school at the age of eleven, and college two years ago while majoring in criminology and your minor being art. How is it that your fifteen?”

Violet rubbed her neck, “This one doesn’t think much of it really. Violets just clever.”

Sherlock couldn’t help but scoff at that, earning a look from her; He went to the window. “What about this suicides than Sherlock?” Mrs. Hudson asked while holding the daily news, “Thought that’d be right up your street. Three suicides exactly the same.”

“Fourth.” He said seeing a police car just outside, “There’s been a fourth.”; Violet went to the window where her brother was and saw it too. “There’s something different about it this time.”

“A fourth?” Mrs. Hudson asked.

The front door downstairs opened and they all heard the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. It had turned out the person that came to see them was the DI, Lestrade. “Where?” He asked.

Lestrade had replied, “Brixton Lauriston Garden.”

“What’s different about this one?” The detective asked the Inspector, “You wouldn’t have come to us otherwise.”

“You know how they never leave notes?”

“Yeah?”

“This one did. Will you come?”

Sherlock was silent for a moment, before asking, “Who’s on forensics?”

“Anderson.” Lestrade replied.

Sherlock couldn’t help but groan, “Anderson won’t work with me.”

“He won’t be your assistant.”

“I **_NEED_** an assistant.”

“What about Violet?”

Violet had said to Lestrade, “This one doesn’t like being an assistant. She prefers the term partner.”

Sherlock added, “Besides, Violet’s the same IQ level as me, so it wouldn’t work.”

“Will you come?” Lestrade asked again.

He turned his attention back to the window, “Not by police car, we’ll be right behind.”

“Thank you.” He said. Lestrade to Mrs. Hudson and barely noticed John. He then took his leave letting himself out. As soon as the police car drove off Sherlock couldn’t help but let out smile. “ **BRILLIANT!** ” He exclaimed while jumping, “ **YES!** Four suicides now a note! Ah! It’s christmas!”

He went to grab his coat and scarf. Violet did the same as well all while grabbing her leather cross bag. “Mrs. Hudson! We’ll be late! Might need some food!”

“I’m your landlady dear, not your housekeeper.” Mrs. Hudson said.

“Something cold will do!” He said ignoring her statement. He put on his coat and scarf and took a pouch of his tools from table. “John have a cup of tea, make yourself at home!”

He walked out the door from the kitchen which had also lead to the stairs, “Don’t wait up!” He said, before running out the door with Violet following close behind. “Look at him dashing about.” Mrs. Hudson said to John with a smile, “My husband was exactly the same. Your more of the sitting down type I can tell. I’ll make you that cuppa, you just rest your leg.”

“ **DAMN MY LEG!** ” John had suddenly exclaimed, starling Mrs. Hudson, “I am so sorry.” He said, “It’s just that sometimes this bloody thing…”

“I understand dear, I’ve got a hip.” Mrs. Hudson said.

“Cup of tea would be lovely, thank you.”

“Just this once dear, I’m not your housekeeper.”

“Some biscuits too if you have them.”

“Not your housekeeper.”

John picked up the daily newspaper and looked through it. He saw on the front of the page that had the captions “Suicide Cults”. Under it showed the one in charge of the investigation which was the DI that was just here. Detective Inspector Lestrade.

“John Watson is a doctor?”

John jumped by the sound of Violet’s voice. He saw both her and Sherlock standing at the doorway. “In fact your an army doctor.” Sherlock said.

John got up and placed the newspaper on his chair, “...Yes.” He said.

“Seen a lot of injuries? Violent deaths?” He said.

“Well yes.” John replied.

“Did it cause John trauma?” Violet asked him.

“Yes.” John replied, “I’ve seen far too much.”

Silence came over the trio all they did was stare for only a few seconds. “Wanna see some more?” The detective asked.

“Oh God yes.” John replied.

The trio then sprinted out the door and down the steps. “Sorry Mrs. Hudson.” John said, “I’ll skip the tea, off out.”

“All three of you?” Mrs Hudson asked, emerging from her flat.

“What with four impossible suicides?” Sherlock said going over to her, “How can we both sit at home, when they’re is finally something fun going on?!” He kissed her on the cheek.

Violet went outside to hail a cab but had no such luck at first.

Mrs. Hudson said, “Look at you all happy and decent.”

“Who cares about decent?” Sherlock said before walking out the door, “The game, Mrs. Hudson is on!”

Violet finally hailed a cab and was the first to step in, followed by Sherlock and John. Sherlock told the driver their destination and they drove off.   


	3. Consulting Detectives

It was already dark out when they were halfway to their destination. During their time of getting to there destination, there was nothing but silence between the trio. John couldn’t help but stare awkwardly at the two of them. Sherlock was typing on his phone, while Violet, was messing around with a rubix cube all while listening to music.

John tapped on his cane trying to figure out what to say exactly. Sherlock said to him without looking, “Okay you have questions.” Sherlock said.

“Yes, where are we going?” John asked.

Violet had answered not picking her head up from the cube, “Sherlock, John and Violet are going to a crime scene. Does John Watson have another question?”

“You two don’t look alike, yet your siblings, why is that?” He asked.

“Violet here is adopted.” Sherlock answered, “She’s been with my family since I was a teenager. Next.”

“What is it that the two of you do exactly?” He asked.

Sherlock asked, “What do you think?”

“Well at first I thought private detective, but…” The doctor said.

Violet picked up her head. “But…?” She asked tilting her head.

“The police don’t go to a pair of private detectives.” John said.

Sherlock smiled and put his phone in his pocket; he turned to John, “We’re both consulting detectives. We’re the only ones in the world; I invented the job.”

Violet stomped on Sherlock's foot, causing him to grunt. He glared at her annoyed, and all she did was give him an innocent look and shrugged.

“Consulting detective?” John said questioningly, “What does that mean?”

Sherlock had replied working the pain from his foot, “It means when the police are out of their debt, they consult the both of us.”

“The police?” He said, “Consulting amateurs?”

Both Sherlock and Violet gave a look to John, which made him feel a bit awkward. “Yesterday when we met, I asked Afghanistan or Iraq, you looked surprised.”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask you about that.” John said, “How did you know that exactly?”

“Sherlock didn’t know. Sherlock saw.” Violet said before pointing to herself, “This one saw it too.”

John was a bit surprised at this. “Again, how did--”

Violet cut him off when she started to explain, “The way John has his haircut, and the way he holds himself says military. But John’s conversation started ‘A bit different from my day’ said trained at Bart’s so John was trained at Barts. This one and Sherlock finds it obvious. His face tanned but there is no tan above the wrists. John has been abroad, but he wasn’t sunbathing. John’s limp is bad when he walks, and yet he doesn’t ask for a chair whenever he stands. It’s like he’s forgotten about it. In other words it’s less partly psychosomatic. That says the original circumstances of the injury were traumatic. Wounded in action then. Wounded in action, suntan, Afghanistan or Iraq.”

John was a bit dumbstruck but immediately shook it off and said, “He said that I had a therapist, how did he know about that?”

It was Sherlock's turn to explain. “You’ve got a psychosomatic limp, so of course you got a therapist. Then there’s your brother.”

“Huh?” John said.

Sherlock held out the phone and he started his explanation, “Your phone. It’s expensive, e-mail enabled, MP3 player, but you’re looking for a flatshare. You wouldn’t waste money on this. It’s a gift then. Scratches. Not one, many over time. It’s been in the same pocket as keys and coins. The man sitting next to me wouldn’t treat his one luxury item like this, so it was given to you as a gift. Next bit’s easy. You know it already.”

“The engraving.” The doctor said.

On the back of the phone the words had read, “ ** _Harry Watson -From Clara XXX_** ”

He continued his explanation, “Harry Watson; clearly a family member who’s given you his old phone. Not your father, this is a young man’s gadget. Could be your cousin, but you’re a war hero who can’t find a place to live. Unlikely you’ve got an extended family, certainly not one you’re close to, so brother it is. Now Clara, who’s Clara? Three kisses says it’s a romantic attachment. The expense of the phone says wife, not girlfriend. She must have given to him recently-this model is only six months old. Marriage in trouble then six months was just given away. If she’d left him, he would have kept it. People do sentiment. But no, he wanted rid of it. He left her. He gave the phone to you: that says he wants you to stay in touch. You’re looking for a cheap accommodation, but you’re not going to your brother for help; that says that you’ve got problems with him. Maybe you liked his wife, maybe you don’t like his drinking.”

“Okay, how can you possibly know about the drinking?” John asked.

“Shot in the dark.” Sherlock said with a smile, “Good one though. Power connection; tiny little scuff marks around the edge of it. Every night he goes to plug it in to charge but his hands are shaking. You never see those marks on a sober man’s phone. Never see a drunks without him.”

He handed the phone back to him.

“There you go, you see.” He said to John, “You were right.”

“I was right about what?” John said curiously.

“Police don’t go to amateurs.” Violet said.

John was left speechless by this. “That was…” He said, “Amazing! You both are amazing.”

Both Sherlock and Violet were shocked to hear John say this to them. Never before in their lives have they heard a comment. “Really?” Sherlock asked in disbelief.

“Yes really.” John said, “It was a brilliant deduction!”

“People don’t normally say that to Violet and Sherlock.” Violet had said.

“Yeah?” The Doctor said with a quizzical look, “What do they normally say?”

“Piss off.” Both Sherlock and Violet said in unison.

John couldn’t help but chuckle at that.

* * *

 - ** _Later at Brixton Lauriston Garden_** -

The cab arrived to their destination, the police already there at the scene. The three of them got out of the car. The minute Violet stepped out of the cab, she took Sherlock’s hand that he didn’t mind. “Did I get anything wrong?” Sherlock asked John.

John had paid the driver and walked beside them. “You’re right. Harry and I don’t get along.” He said, “Clara and Harry split up three months ago, they’re getting a divorce. Harry is a drinker.”

Sherlock seemed satisfied, “It’s surprising to get everything right.”

“Harry short for Harriet.” John had added.

This caused Sherlock to stop in his tracks as did Violet. She couldn’t help but giggle when she saw the look on her brothers face. “Harry’s your sister.” Sherlock said.

“So why am I here again?” John asked him.

“ **SISTER!** ” Sherlock exclaimed causing Violet to burst out laughing.

“No, seriously, why am I here?” John asked again.

“It’s always something.” The detective said angrily ignoring the questions that John was asking.

They walked over to where the police car was and the three of them stopped at the “Do Not Cross” tape. They were then greeted by a sergeant. Sergeant Donovan to be precise; At this point Violet let out go of Sherlock's hand.

“Hello freaks.” She said to Sherlock and Violet.

“Hello Sally.” Sherlock said, “We’re here to see Lestrade.”

She asked, “Why?”

“We were invited.” He replied.

“Why?” She asked this time sounding a bit annoyed this time.

“Lestrade, wants Sherlock and Violet to look.” Violet had replied, “Can this one and Sherlock go in?”

“Yeah well, you two know what I think.” Sally said.

“Yes all to well.” Sherlock lifted the tape and motioned Violet to go ahead. She nodded and went under the tape, and Sherlock followed. Violet sniffed and turned to Sally, tilting her head. “Sally didn’t make it home last night, didn’t she?” Violet asked.

Sally’s jaw dropped at that, “I--Uh--” She stammered. She had finally noticed standing there, “Ah, who’s this?”

“This is my colleague John Watson.” Sherlock had replied.

Sally let out a surprise gasp. “A colleague?” She said, “How do you get a colleague?”

She turned to John, “Did one of them follow you home?”

John shook his head in an answer to her question. “Should I wait outside?” He asked. “No.” Sherlock said lifting the tap so that John could enter. John went under the tap and walked with the Holmes siblings.

“The freaks are here. Bringing them in.” Donovan said in a walkie. They walked to the entrance and they were greeted by another familiar face. It was a forensics scientist one by the name of Anderson. “Hello again Anderson.” Sherlock greeted.

“It’s a crime scene, I don’t want it contaminated.” Anderson said.

“Has Anderson’s wife been away long?” Violet asked tilting her head again.

“Oh don’t pretend like you know that.” Anderson said to her, “Someone told you that.”

“Anderson’s deodorant told Violet.” Violet said, earning a look from him, “It’s for men.”

Anderson said, “Of course it’s for men, I’m wearing it!”

“So is Sergeant Donovan.” Sherlock stated.

Both of their jaws dropped when they heard Sherlock state that. Sherlock took a whiff in the air, “Ooh.” He said, “I think it just vaporized, may we go in?”

“I don’t know what your implying, but--” Anderson said before getting cut off by Sherlock.

“We’re not implying anything.” He said, “I’m sure Sally came over for a nice little chat and just happened to stay over for the night.” Sherlock went inside the building. Violet had added before she went inside, “This one assumes that Sally scrubbed Anderson’s floor by the state of her knees.” And then she went inside. John had soon followed.

They met Lestrade inside seeing him putting on a blue baggy jumpsuit with plastic over his shoes. “Wear this.” Sherlock said to John, handing him the blue baggy jumpsuit. Lestrade took notice of John’s presence, “Who’s this?” He asked the two.

“He’s with me.” Sherlock replied.

“Yes, but who is he?”

“I said he’s with me.”

Lestrade decided to just drop the subject and go along with it.

John put it on with Violets help. “You two aren’t going to put one on?”

Sherlock didn’t answer him, and put on plastic gloves. “Violet and Sherlock, don’t usually wear them.” Violet said, “This one and Sherlock think it’s stupid.” Sherlock handed Violet a pair of plastic glove. She took them from him and put them on after she removed her own gloves. Lestrade lead them upstairs.

“Two minutes.” He said, “That’s all I can give you.”

“We may need more than that.” Sherlock told him.

Lestrade than explained the situation, “The victim’s name is Jennifer Wilson. We’re examining her card information right now. She hasn’t been here long, a couple of kids found her.”

 **  
** They had soon gotten to the floor, where the fourth victim, named Jennifer Wilson was.


	4. The Pink Lady

The four entered the room to find Jennifer Wilson laying on the floor on the front. She was wearing all pink to which Violet couldn’t help but groan in disgust at color since she despised the color pink. Both her and Sherlock looked and saw that there was indeed a message. It had spelled out Rache.

Violet tilted her head and all Sherlock did was stare. “Shut up.” Sherlock suddenly said.

Lestrade gave him a look. “I didn’t say anything.” Sherlock said.

“You were thinking.” Sherlock stated, “It’s annoying.”

“Brother’s being rude.” Violet said.

“I’m not being rude.” He said.

“Yes he is.” Violet said, “Sherlock can’t be rude. He should keep his own thoughts to himself.”

“What? It is true and you know it.” He said.

All Violet did was give him a shrug. She took off her bag and gave it to Lestrade to hold on to, but he placed it against the wall. They both started to take a look. at the body as well as the message. Sherlock looked very closely at the word Rache of course it was german. The german word had translated to revenge. Violet looked at him questioningly as if she was asking him if it really was a german message. He shook her head to her in response to her question.

He then put it together, he had filled in the blank. Instead of Rache, the message spelled out Rachel. Violet saw it to and nodded in agreement. They both started to check the body. Sherlock felt the upper part of the pink lady and felt that it was wet as did Violet.

Violet started to check her coat pockets and found an umbrella. When she felt the state of it, the umbrella was dry. She showed to her brother, to which he nodded it; she placed the umbrella to the side. She then felt the neckline of the jacket and felt that it was wet; She showed this to Sherlock as well to which he nodded.  

Out of his pocket, Sherlock pulled a hand held magnifier. He started to check the jewelry that was on her. The bracelet, earring, and necklace she had on were all clean. But he saw that the ring was dirty; He pointed it out to Violet. She removed the ring from her finger to take a closer look; after she was done she handed it to Sherlock so that he could look as well.

They both saw that the ring had been regularly removed. Sherlock placed the ring back on. From the state of the ring and the other jewelry, they saw that she had an unhappy marriage, longer than 10 years. They both came to the same conclusion.

There fourth victim, Jennifer Wilson, had committed constant adulterer.

They both looked at each other, and Sherlock couldn’t help but smile. They stood up.

“You two got anything?” Lestrade asked them.

“Not much.” Sherlock replied putting away his magnifier.

Just than they heard Anderson. “She’s German.” He said. They turned to him and saw him leaning on the doorway. “Rache.” He said, “It means revenge. She might be trying to tell us something--”

“This one says thank you for the input.” Violet said sarcastically, kicking to door closed. She started to look up the weather on her phone. When she got it, she showed it to Sherlock.

“Wait, so she’s german?” Lestrade asked.

“No, that’s wrong.” Sherlock said looking onto Violets phone. The following had read:

**_UK Weather_ **

**_Maps_ **

**_Local Warnings_ **

**_Next 24hrs_ **

**_7 Day Forecast_ **

****

He motioned her; basically telling her that he was done looking. She placed the phone back in her pocket. He said, “But she is from out of town. She came from the provinces and attended to stay for one night before returning to Cardiff. That’s obvious.”

“That’s amazing.” John commented.

“And what about the message?” The DI asked the two of them. Though they seemed to ignore it. Violet turned to John, “What does John Watson think?” She asked him.

“What do you mean the message?” He asked Violet.

“No.” Sherlock answered for her, “As the doctor, she means the body.”

“Now hang on a second!” Lestrade said, “The autopsy is going to be here to look at the body!”

“That doesn’t concern either of us.” Sherlock said.

“I’m breaking every rule by letting the two of you in here.”

 

“But you know you need the both of us.”

“Yes. God help me.”

Violet had said, “It’s okay for John to look at Jennifer now.”

John looked at Lestrade unsure of what to do. “Just… Do what they say.” He said. Lestrade stepped out of the room yelling to Anderson, “Anderson, keep everyone out for two minutes!”

John turned to the both of them. “What am I doing here, really?”

“Simple.” Sherlock said, “Your here to help.”

“But I’m helping you pay the rent.”

“True, but this is more fun.”

“Fun? There’s a woman lying dead on the floor.”

“Perfect analysis. But please, try to be a bit more detailed.”

John looked over to the body, and just let out a defeated sigh. He kneeled down, with Violet’s help. He looked her over from her face over to her wrist. Violet had then helped him to stand up. “...Yeah, Asphyxia.” John said, “She fainted. Her vomit blocked her throat. There’s no smell of alcohol so it might have been a sudden seizure or a narcotic drug.”

“Didn’t John read the paper?” Violet asked.

John didn’t know what she meant until that little memory came back to him. “So than, this is the fourth serial suicide?”

Lestrade came back in the room. “You have got two minutes. So what do you got?”

Sherlock had then explained, “The victim is in her late 30s judging from her clothes she’s employed. The flashy pink coat suggests the media industry. She came from Cardiff and intended to stay one night in London. This is clear from the size of her suitcase.”

Lestrade raised an eyebrow, “Suitcase?”

“Jennifer was married.” Violet said, “Jennifer was married for ten years at least. She wasn’t happy. She’s had several lovers, but none of them knew Jennifer was married.”  

“You’re not making this up are you?” Lestrade asked her.

“This one never makes up stories. Even if she did, this one would admit to Lestrade it’s a lie” Violet said.

Sherlock had explained to Lestrade, “She has a wedding ring for ten years. The jewelry on her is clean except for the ring which means she’s been unhappily married. The only part of the ring that was clean was the inside, because she took it off regularly. Her nails are cared for as well, so she doesn’t have a job where she uses her hands. Therefore the she took it off because of her lover. If it were only one man it would’ve been hard to hide the fact that she’s a married woman so several partners.”

“That’s brilliant!” John said, earning a look from both Sherlock and Violet, “Sorry.”

“Wait how do you know she’s from Cardiff?” Lestrade asked them.

“Yeah, that’s something I didn’t get either.” John admitted.

Sherlock groaned, “Dear God… What is it like in those little brains of yours? It must be so boring.”

This caused Violet to pinch his cheek; it didn’t leave a mark but it did hurt. “Ow.” Was all he said as he rubbed where she pinched.

Violet had then said, “Her coat is damp, but it’s been sunny for the past few hours in London. On Jennifer’s coat, she turned her collar up because of the strong wind. The umbrella in Jennifer's pocket is dry however. The wind was too strong so Jennifer didn’t use it. Like what brother said before, this one can judge from her suitcase that Jennifer had planned on staying in London for one night only. It’s clear that Jennifer had just arrived in London hours before Jennifer died, but it wasn’t more than 2 to 3 hours so Jennifer’s coat would still be wet.”

Sherlock then finished it up for her, “Therefore, in 2 to 3 hours distance, the place where it was raining accompanied by the strong winds was Cardiff.”

Violet handed Sherlock her phone again and he showed both John and Lestrade what they were basically talking about. “That’s a fantastic deduction!” John exclaimed once again in awe.

Violet gave John a curious look as did Sherlock, “Does John always think aloud?” The young teen asked.

John gave a somewhat embarrassed look, “Oh sorry.” He said, “I’ll shut up now.”

“No it’s… Fine.” Sherlock said awkwardly.

**  
  
  
**

“I’m sorry, but what suitcase are you two going on about?” Lestrade couldn’t help but ask again.

“Yes, where is it?” Sherlock asked looking around the room; spinning around, “I’m sure she had a notebook or a phone that could tell us something about Rachel.”

“Rachel?” Lestrade said, “She was writing Rachel?”

“No she was writing an angry not in German.” Sherlock said sarcastically before actually telling him, “Of course she was writing Rachel! The question is why did she wait to write until she was dying?”

“Why do you two think there was a suitcase?” The DI asked.

Violet had replied, “Jennifer has splash marks on her right leg but not her left leg. Jennifer pulled the suitcase with her right hand. This one and Sherlock can see the pattern of splashes clearly.”

Sherlock had added, “Judging from the extent of the splashes, it was small sized. A fine lady like herself wouldn’t be able to fit clothes for more than one night in a small case, so I ask again, where is her case?”

“There wasn’t any.” Lestrade said.

Both the detective and Sherlock froze where they stood. “Say that again.” Sherlock said to the DI. Lestrade had then repeated what they said, “There wasn’t a suitcase anywhere.”

“ **SUITCASE!** ” Sherlock shouted running out of the room. Violet followed him, grabbing her bag on the way out. He continued to shout, “ **DID ANYONE SEE A SUITCASE!? ANYONE AT ALL?!** ” Lestrade had said to the two, “I told you two, there wasn’t any case!”

“The victims all took the same poison!” Sherlock shouted to Lestrade, “Just so you understand!”

“Yeah thanks for that.” Lestrade mumbled before shouting to them, “ **AND?!** ”

Sherlock stopped causing Violet to bump into him and nearly fall over. He looked up to Lestrade, “It’s murder, all of them.” He said, “I’m not sure how exactly, but these aren’t suicides. What you have is serial killings.”

Sherlock couldn’t help but smile at this, “Serial killers, I love those! That’s always something to look forward to.”

“What are you talking about?!” John shouted to him.

“Her suitcase!” He shouted again, “Come on where is it, did she eat it?! Someone else was here, and they took her case!”

He looked away from them. “That means the killer drove her here.”

“Maybe the cabbie driver forgot he loaded Jennifer’s cas in his car.” Violet suggested.

“Maybe she checked into the hotel and left it there!” John had also suggested.

Violet replied to John, “Jennifer never made it! Look at her hair! If Jennifer took care of her clothes she wouldn’t have time to fix up her hair in the hotel…”

Suddenly, Violets eyes widened in realization as did Sherlocks. “Oh…” He said softly at first, before exclaiming, “OH!” He clapped his hands together.

“Sherlock? Violet?” John asked.

“What is it?” Lestrade asked as well.

“Oh, serial killers are always hard.” Sherlock said, “You always have to wait for them to make a mistake.”

He descended further down the stairs, along with Violet.

“Hang on we can’t just wait!” Lestrade said.

“We don’t have to wait!” Sherlock shouted to him, “Look at her Houston we have a mistake! Get to Cardiff! Find whoever knew the victim and find Rachel!”

Sherlock and Violet both ran out the door.

“Okay, okay.” Lestrade said before shouting, “ **BUT WHAT MISTAKE!?** ”

Violet ran back and shouted to him and John, “ **PINK!!** ” She then ran to catch up with her brother. John stood there for only minute by what had just happened. While Lestrade and his team went to work, John went down the stairs. He removed the baggy blue jumpsuit and the plastic covering his shoes, and proceeded outside.

He looked around and saw that Sherlock and Violet were nowhere to be found.

“They left.” He heard Donovan say.

John turned to her, “Sorry, who?” He asked so that she could clarify.

“Sherlock and Violet.” She said, “They left. They always do that.”

“Will they be back?”

“Probably not.”

“Oh… I see.”

John didn’t know why, but he felt a bit disappointed that they left. Even though he had just met them he didn’t know why he had that feeling. “By the way, where are we  again?” John asked.

“Brixton.” Donovan replied.

“Do you know where I can find a taxi?” He asked, “My leg is…”

“Oh.” The Sergeant said as she lifted the tape up for him, “Try the main road.”

“Thank you.” The Doctor said. He went under the tape and was about to go to the main road. “Are their friends?” Donovan asked him, “I mean, you can’t be right? What’s your relationship?”

“I don’t have one.” John said, “I met them just yesterday.”

Donovan said, “In that case, take my advice and stay away from them.”

“Huh? Why?” He asked turning to her.

“They don’t get paid to do this. He gets off on it, it just excites him, and her, she likes a challenge and puzzles..” Donovan replied, “Pretty soon one day, we’ll be standing around a body, and Sherlock is going to be the one who put it there. And Violet, she’ll be the one who had orchestrated it.”

“Why would they do that?” John asked her.

“It’s because they’re psychopaths.” She stated, “And people like them get bored easily.”

“ **DONOVAN!** ” Lestrade had shouted over to her.

“ **I’M COMING!** ” Donovan shouted back. She then said to John, “Just for your own good, stay away from them.”

She walked towards the building where Lestrade was. John watched her go and he proceeded to head down the main road. But he stopped in his tracks when he suddenly heard a phone ringing. At first he thought it was someones phone when he looked around, but strangely enough, it was a payphone that was ringing.

He was indeed confused by this but he decided to shake it off and go to main road.

The minute John left, the payphone had stopped ringing.


	5. Being Haunted or Missing it?

John had managed to get to the main road but the only problem he had trouble catching a cab. Everytime he tried to, the cab would just pass by and he would go un-noticed. John walked further up the street hoping he would have better luck. Just than he heard a phone ring, coming from a fast-food restaurant nearby. As soon as a staff member came to pick it up, the phone stopped ringing,

John shook it off and continued to walk to the sidewalk. Just as he was walking past a payphone. It started to ring causing him to stop in his tracks. Curiosity had gotten over the ex-military man. He went into the payphone and closed the door behind him. He picked up the phone.

“Hello?” He said.

A voice he did not recognize, and not disguised in anyway spoke to him on the other end of the line.

“The building on your left has a security camera.” He said, “Do you see it?”

John was shocked; he didn’t expect to hear someone else on the payphone he had just hoped that it was his mind playing tricks on him.

“Who is this?” He asked.

“The camera on the building.” The caller said ignoring his question, “Do you see it?”

John turned to the building on his left and spotted the camera pointing towards him. “Yeah, I see it.” John said.

“Watch.” The man on the other end said. The camera turned towards the right, away from John and now it was pointing towards the streets.

“On the opposite building there is another camera.” The caller said, “Do you see it?”

John gave him the same answer. And he saw the camera turn away from him.

“There was one more camera, on the roof of the right side.” The caller said.

John turned and he saw the camera do the same as the other two.

“What exactly are you aiming at?” John asked.

“Get in the car Doctor Watson.” The caller had said. Just as he said that a black car had pulled up just in front of the payphone he was in was.

“You’re not frightening me much.”

“That’s because you understand the situation quite well…”

The man on the other end of the line hung up, letting it ring. He placed the phone back on the receiver and went towards the car and got in. There he sat next to woman wearing a black dress, typing on her phone typing away as the car drove.

“Hi…” John said to the woman, “What’s your name?”

“Um…” The woman said, “Anthea.”

“Is that your real name?” He asked her.

She chuckled and replied, “No.”

“I’m John. John Watson.”

“Yes, I know.”

Eventually the car had turned into a garage in a abandoned warehouse. The car pulled up to a man wearing a suit and leaning on an umbrella as he stood. John stepped out of the car and approached him.

“Please have a seat John.” The stranger said.

“I do have a phone.” John said to the man, “I’ll admit, it was clever, but you could’ve just called me.”

“If you want to avoid Sherlock Holmes, you must be cautious.” The Stranger said, “Your leg must be hurting. Please take a seat.”

“No it’s fine.” John said to the man, “I’d prefer to stand.”

The Stranger had said to him, “You don’t seem to be frightened.”

“You’re not a freighting person.” John stated. The Stranger couldn’t help but laugh, “You could only expect such bravery from a soldier. But to deprecate this, you could say bravery is a synonym for foolishness. Tell me, what is your relationship with Sherlock and Violet Holmes?”

John had replied, “We don’t have one. I just met them yesterday.”

“And yet you started living with the two of them, and your investigating crimes together.” The Stranger said, “Might we expect a happy announcement between you and him by the end of the week?”

John gave the Stranger a look, “Who are you?” He said, what was more like a demand.

“An interested person.” The Stranger replied.

He gave a quizzical look to him. “What kind of interest do you have in them? You don’t appear to be a friend of there’s.”

  
“How many friends do you think they have?” The Stranger asked, “I’m the closest thing to a friend they have.”

“Meaning?”

“An enemy?”   
  


“Well, Sherlock thinks of it that way.”

“He’d say that I am his arch-enemy. He likes to exaggerate things.”

“You’re one to talk.”

John’s mobile let out a ringtone. He took out his phone and checked to see who was from. Lo and behold it was from Sherlock. “Baker Street. Come at once if convenient -SH.”

“Shall we continue our conversation?” The Stranger asked.

John decided not to reply and was honestly interested in the conversation right now.

“...Go ahead.” He said.

“Will you continue your association with Sherlock and Violet?”

“Wha--I don’t think that has anything to do with you.”

“Yes it does.”

“I’m pretty sure it doesn’t.”

The Stranger took out a small notebook from his pocket. “If you intended to move there, to 221B Baker street… I’d give you compensation.” The Stranger said, “A certain amount of money on a regular basis, to make your life more comfortable.”

“Why?” John asked him.

The Stranger replied, “Because your not a wealthy man.”

“In return for what?”

“Information. I’m not saying you should break the law. It would be enough to let me know what they’re doing.”

“Why?”

“I worry about them. Constantly.”

“...How nice of you.”

“But for personal reasons, I want this to be kept secret from them. Violet and I get along well, but with Sherlock, we have how you say, a difficult relationship.”

John’s phone let out another ringtone again. He checked and saw it was another message. It had read, “If inconvenient come anyway. -SH”

“I refuse.” John told the Stranger.

The Stranger asked, “Don’t you want to hear the sum first?”

“That’s fine.” He replied.

The Stranger laughed once again, “You’re loyal to two people you met only yesterday.”

“No.” John had immediately denied, “It’s… I’m not interested.”

The Stranger took out another small notebook. “Trust issues. It says here.” He said to John.

John slightly twitched at that. He gulped, “What’s that?”

“Could it be that you decided to trust Sherlock Holmes of all people?“

“Who says I trust him?”

“You don’t seem the kind to make friends easily.”

“Are we done?”

“You tell me.”

John took that as a cue to leave. He turned to walk back to the car. “I imagine that people already told you to stay away from them.” The Stranger said, “But I can tell from your left hand that’s not going to happen.”

John stopped in his tracks when he heard him say that. He shook his head slightly and turned back to him. “My what?” He asked.

“Show it to me.” The Stranger said.

John let out a sigh and showed him his left hand. The Stranger walked over to him and reached for his hand; John pulled back. “Don’t.” He said.

All the Stranger did was gave him a “Really?” look. John just gave him his left hand, and the Stranger looked.

“Remarkable.” The Stranger said.

John asked, “What is?”

The Stranger replied, “Most people blunder round this city, and all they see are streets and cars. When you walk with Sherlock and Violet Holmes, you see the battlefield. You have seen already, haven’t you?”

“What’s wrong with my hand?” John asked.

The Stranger explained, “You have an intermittent tremor in your left hand. Your therapist thinks it’s post-traumatic stress disorder. She thinks you’re haunted by the memories of your military service.”

“Who the hell are you? How do you know that?”   
  


“Fire her. She’s got it the wrong way round. You’re under stress right now and yet your hand is perfectly steady. You’re not haunted by the war Dr. Watson… You miss it.”

John didn’t say anything to the Stranger when he had stated that. “Welcome back.” The Stranger whispered. The Stranger turned and walked away, spinning his umbrella as he walked. John’s mobile phone went off again.

“Time to choose a side, Dr. Watson.” The Stranger said.

John just stood there, not knowing what to say or do. “I’m to take you home.” Anthea said.

He looked at his phone and saw that it was another message from Sherlock. This one had read, “Could be dangerous. -SH.” He looked at his left hand thinking about what the Stranger had said to him.

“Address?” Anthea asked.

“221B Baker Street.” John said, “But there’s a place I want to drop by first.”

He got into the car and it drove off.

They stopped at John’s flat. He went in and got from his drawer a pistol he had taken from when he returned from Afghanistan. He made sure it was out of sight when he took it out of the flat.

* * *

 

- ** _Later at Baker Street_** -

Soon enough they stopped at 221B Baker Street.

“Listen…” John said, “Your boss. Any chance you could not tell him this is where I went?”

“Sure.” Anthea said.

“You already told him haven’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“...So do you get any free time?”

“Yeah… Lots.”

Anthea and John both looked at each other.

“Bye.”

“Okay, bye.”

John exited the car and entered 221B. When he got up the stairs he found Sherlock lying on the couch slowing breathing in and out. “What are you doing?” John asked him.

“Nicotine patch.” Sherlock said rolling up his sleeve to show that he had patches, “Helps me to think. It’s impossible to sustain a smoking habit in London these days. Bad news for brain work.”

“It’s good for breathing.” John said.

Sherlock let out a groan, “Breathing. Breathing is dull.”

“Is that three patches?”

“It’s a three patch problem.”

John looked around and saw that Violet was nowhere to be seen. “Where’s Violet?” He asked.

“She’s taking a nap in her room.” He said before looking at his watch, “Should be awake any minute now.”

“Nap?” John said, “Shouldn’t she be actually sleeping. I mean it must be past her curfew by now.”

“Tried to tell her otherwise, but told me it was boring.” Sherlock replied, “Can’t help but agree with her. She’s like that when she’s on case with me.”

They soon heard the teen groan from the other room. “Speaking of which.” He said.

Violet came from the hall and entered the living room, rubbing her eyes a bit, and yawned. She noticed John standing there. “This one says hello to John.” She said, a bit drowsy from her nap.

“Hi.” John said to her waving a bit.

“Violet is going to get herself warm milk.” Violet said, “Does John want something to drink?”

“Uh, sure.” John said, “If it’s not too much trouble.”

She had said, “It’s no trouble for Violet. She doesn’t mind it. Does brother want anything?”

“No thank you, but thanks anyway.” Sherlock said closing his eyes as he continued to take deep breaths. .  

Violet went to the kitchen and went to make the drinks. There was silence within the flat; John stood there awkwardly not knowing what to do at first, until he remembered something, “So…”

“So?” The Detective said.

“You asked me to come, I’m just gonna assume it’s important.” John said.

His eyes shot open, “Oh yes, of course, can I borrow your phone?”

“My phone?”

“Don’t wanna use mine. Always a chance that my number will be recognized. It’s on the website.”

Violet came with the warm milk and tea, and handed the tea to John. She took a seat on an armchair and drank her warm milk.

“Mrs. Hudson has a phone.” John said before taking a sip down the stairs.

“She’s downstairs.” Sherlock said, “I tried shouting but she didn’t hear me.”

“I was on the other side of London!”

“There was no rush.”

“Violet also has a phone, couldn’t you use hers?”

“Couldn’t. I put her number on the website to, chance it could be recognized.”

Violet spit out her drink when she heard Sherlock say that. She turned to him, “Sherlock put this ones number on his website!?” Violet shouted at him as she stood up from her seat.

“I had to. Just in case I was busy.” Sherlock told her.

“But what happens if Violet get’s a call from a random number?” Violet said looking with a panicked expression, “Or what if--”

“Violet calm down.” Sherlock told her turning to her; giving her a stern look, “You know what that does to you if start to panic. Besides even if that were to happen, myself and a certain someone would put an end to it. Immediately I might add.”

“But--”

“Don’t make this into an argument. Just calm down and take my word for it.”

Violet nodded and took a deep breath and just like that she manage to calm down. “Okay, Violet is calm now.”

“Good.” Sherlock said.

John was about to ask, but was cut off when Sherlock asked, “John, phone please.”

John sighed and got out his phone from his pocket; he handed it to Sherlock.

“So is this about her case?” John asked.

“Yes, her suitcase in question.” Sherlock said, “The murderer took her case, that was his first mistake.”

“So he took it, so what of it?” John couldn’t help but ask.

“No, choice, we’re gonna have to risk it.” He mumbled before saying to John, “On my desk John, there’s a number I want to you to send a text.”

He handed his phone back to John. “You called me here to send a text?"

“The number on my desk.” Sherlock said.

John took his phone back and went to go find the number on his desk. “I just met a friend of yours.”  

Both Violet and Sherlock raised their eyebrows. “Sherlock & Violets friend?” Violet asked, finishing off her drink.

“An enemy.” John said.

They both Sherlock and Violet said “Oh” in unison. “Which one?” He asked.

“Your archenemy according to him.” John said to Sherlock.

“Did he offer you money to spy on us?” He asked John.

“Yes.”

“Did you take it?”

“No.”

Sherlock and Violet groaned in disappointment. “That’s a shame. John, Sherlock, and Violet could’ve split the money.” Violet said.

“She’s right, think it over next time.” Sherlock said to him.

John didn’t even bother asking, instead he asked, “Who is he, exactly?”

Sherlock had replied, “He’s the most dangerous man you have ever dealt with. Nevermind that, on my desk, the number.”

John managed to find the number he was talking about. He saw that there was a name.

"Jennifer Wilson." He read, his eyes widened in realization in a matter of seconds when he saw the name, “Hang on, isn’t that the name of the victim?

“It is.” Sherlock replied, “It’s not important. Just put in the number.”

John started to put the number in the his phone.

“Did you start?” Sherlock asked.

“Yes.” John replied.

“Did you finish?”

“Hang on a minute!”

“Sherlock shouldn’t be impatient.” Violet said.

Sherlock ignored what his sister said to him. He said to John when he finished, “These words exactly.” He said, “What happened, at Lauriston Garden, I must’ve blacked out. 22 Northumberland Street, please come.”

At this point, John got a bit concerned, “Wait a minute, you blacked out?” He asked.

“Ye--No! No!” Sherlock said. He quickly got up from the couch, “Type and send it, quickly! Violet the case!”

Violet nodded and went to get what Sherlock asked for, while John was finishing up the text.

“Did you send it?” Sherlock asked John as he grabbed a chair.

“What’s the address again?” He asked him.

“22 Northumberland Street, hurry up!” He replied to the doctor. John was taken by surprise when he saw Violet come back with a pink case. She placed it on the chair just in front of Sherlock’s armchair where he took his seat. She unzipped it and opened the case up.

“Is that…?” John started to ask as he sent the message, “The victims… Jennifer Wilson’s suitcase?”

“Yes, obviously.” Sherlock replied.

John gave a sort of confused look to him and Violet. Sherlock took notice of this, “I should mention, that we didn’t kill her.”

“I… Didn’t say that.” John said, feeling just a bit awkward.

“Why not?” Sherlock asked, “Given that text I had you send and the fact that my sister and I have her case, is a perfectly logical assumption.”

“Do people usually assume you’re both the murderer?” John couldn’t help but ask them.

Violet had replied, “Now and then, they do suspect Sherlock and Violet.”

Sherlock couldn’t help but smirk at that. He then put both of his legs on his chair so that he was squatting on his seat now. John went ahead and sat on the chair opposite of him, and Violet sat on a dark blue bean bag chair that was just in the middle of the two ( ** _AN: Yes, Violet does have a bean bag chair_** )

“How did you two get this?” John couldn’t help but ask.

“By looking.” Sherlock replied.

“Where?” He asked.

Sherlock had explained, “The killer must have driven her to Lauriston Gardens. He could only keep the case if it was in the car. Nobody could be seen with this case without drawing attention to themselves, particularly a man, which is statistically more likely. So obviously he felt compelled to get rid of it. The moment he had realized he still had it. It wouldn’t have taken him more than five minutes to realize his first mistake.”

“Violet and Sherlock checked every backstreet wide enough for a car, five minutes from Lauriston Garden.” Violet said, “And anywhere where one would dispose of a bulky object like a suitcase, without being observed. It took Sherlock and Violet less than an hour to find it.”

“Pink.” John said, “You two had gotten all of that, because you realized that, the case was pink?”

“Well it had to be pink, obviously.” Sherlock said to John.

“Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because your an idiot.”

Violet punched Sherlock in the arm when he said that. He turned to her giving her an annoyed look. “What? It’s true.” He said to her.

“It doesn’t mean brother has to say it out loud.” Violet told him.

Sherlock saw that John was giving him a “Really?” look. “No, no, no, don’t look like that. Practically everyone is.” Sherlock said to him, “That is except for Violet.” He gave Violet a friendly pat on the head, and Violet’s face turned slightly red.

“John should look in the case.” Violet said, “He needs to see what’s missing.”

“From the case?” John asked them, “How could I?”

“Her phone.” Sherlock said to him moving his hand from Violet, “Where’s her mobile phone? There’s no phone in the case. We know she had one. That’s her number there. You just texted it.”

“Maybe she left it at home.” John suggested.

Sherlock answered with an immediate reply, “She has a string of lovers, and she’s careful about it. She never leaves it at home.”

John didn’t really understand what Sherlock and Violet were trying to say. “Why did I just send that text?” John asked.

“The better question that John should be asking is where is Jennifer’s phone now?” Violet said, now sitting pretzel style on the bean bag chair.

“She could’ve lost it.” John said.

“Yes, or…?” Sherlock said.

John thought about, for a moment but finally put it together. “The murderer…” He said, “You think the murderer has her phone.”

“Maybe she left it with her case, maybe he took it from her for some reason.” Sherlock said, “Either way the balance of probability is the murderer has her phone.”

John’s eyes widened in both shock and realization, “Wait a minute did I just text a murderer?” He asked the two of them, “What good will that do?”

Just than John’s phone started to ring. He checked and saw that the number was blocked. “A few hours after his last victim and now he receives a text that can only be from her.” Sherlock said, “If somebody had just found that phone they’d ignore a text like that but the murderer… would panic!”

Sherlock flipped the case closed and got up from his seat. Violet got up from her seat as well. He buttoned up his suit, and Violet got her coat, scarf gloves and bag.

“Have you two talked to the police?” John asked them.

“Four people are dead.” Sherlock said getting his coat and scarf, “There isn’t time to talk to the police.”

“Why are you talking to me?” He asked them.

“Mrs. Hudson took Sherlock's skull.” Violet said.

John looked and saw that indeed the skull was missing. “So I’m filling in for his skull than?” John asked.

“Violet thinks John is doing a good job.” Violet said.

“Well?” Sherlock asked.

John looked at him confused, “Well what?”

“You could sit here and just watch what's on the telly.” Sherlock said.

John asked, “You, want me to come with you two?”

“Well, it is better to have company when we’re on cases.” Sherlock said, “Plus I do tend to think aloud; Violet half the time doesn’t listen to half the things I say, and the skull attracts attention so… Is there a problem?”

“Yeah.” John said, “Sergeant Donovan.”

“What about her?” Sherlock asked.

John had replied, “She said you two get off on this, that you enjoy it.”

“And brother said dangerous.” Violet said, “And yet John’s here.”

Sherlock and Violet walked out of the flat leaving John alone. John gritted his teeth and said, “Damn it!”

 **  
**He exited the flat and went after them.


	6. Who Do We Trust?

The trio were walking down the block of Baker Street after finding out that the killer had Jennifer's phone since it wasn’t with her suitcase. They were currently crossing the street and going down the block, on their way to their destination, instead of taking a cab.

“Remind me again, where are we going?” John asked.

“Violet, Sherlock and John are to going to Northumberland Street.” Violet told him, “It’s only a five minute walk.”

“You two think he’s going to be stupid enough to go there?” John asked them.

“No, he’s too brilliant.” Sherlock said, “I love the brilliant ones. They’re always so desperate to get caught.”

“Why?”

“Appreciation! Applause! At long last night the spotlight. That’s the frailty of genius, John, it needs an audience.”

“Yeah.”

“This is his hunting ground. Right here, in the heart of the city. Now that we know his victims were abducted, that changes everything. Because all of his victims disappeared from busy streets, crowded places, but nobody saw them go. Think! who do we trust even though we don’t know them? Who passes unnoticed wherever they go? Who hunts in the middle of a crowd?”

John looked over at Violet, and she looked back at him just as confused as he was. “Who?” They both asked.

“Haven’t the faintest.” Sherlock said, “Who’s hungry?”

The trio walked into a restaurant just across 22 from Northumberland Street. They sat by a sit by the window that was reserved for them. They all took their seats, with Sherlock sitting by the window, John sat across from him and Violet sat in the middle of the both of them. They all removed their coats and other necessities to the side.

“22 Northumberland Street.” Sherlock said, “You two keep your eyes on it.”  

“He’s not just going to ring the doorbell.” John said, “He’d need to be mad.”

“He has already killed four people.” Sherlock said.

“Right, okay.” John said.

Just than a man all to familiar to Sherlock and Violet who was also the owner of the restaurant approached them. “Sherlock, Violet!” He said with a smile. Sherlock and Violet both smiled at him. “Anything on the menu, whatever you want, free.” He said giving each of them menus, “For you, your sister, and your date.”

“I’m not his date.” John said.

The man had then said, “These two, got me off a murder charge.”

“John, this is Angelo.” Sherlock introduced, before turning to the window, “Three years ago, Violet and I proved to Lestrade at the time of a particularly vicious triple murder, that Angelo was in a completely different part of town, house breaking.”

“They cleared my name.” Angelo said.

“This one and Sherlock cleared it a bit.” Violet said.

“Anything happening opposite?” Sherlock asked not turning away from the window.

“Nothing.” Angelo replied he then said to John, “If it hadn’t been for these two, I’d have gone to prison.”

“But Angelo did go to prison.” Violet stated.

“I’ll get a candle for the table. It’s more romantic.” Angelo said, going ahead to get a candle.

“I’m not his date!” John said.

Sherlock set the menu aside, “You might as well eat it.” Sherlock said to John, “We might have a long wait.”

“You’re not going to?” John asked him.

Sherlock had replied, “I don’t usually eat while on a case, so in other words, no.”

John had then asked Violet, “How about you? Are you going to eat?”

“This one doesn’t want any--”

“She’s eating.” Sherlock said before Violet could finish her sentence. Violet looked at him, “But this one doesn’t want to eat.”

“Violet.” Sherlock said, giving her yet another stern look, “You’ve been skipping your meals for the past two weeks. The last thing I want is for you to pass out from hunger. **_AGAIN._** ”

John’s eyes widened when Sherlock said that, “You haven’t eaten for two whole weeks?” John asked.

Violet nodded her head looking a bit guilty at that, before turning to Sherlock., “How did Sherlock know she has been skipping meals?”

“You really need to work on your skills at lying.” Sherlock told her, “You’re starting to slip.”

“This one doesn’t need to eat though.” Violet said, “She’s overweight.”

John was bit taken back by what Violet said. Of course he clearly saw that she had a healthy weight going on, so why was she saying she’s overweight?

“We’ve been over this before. You’re not overweight.” Sherlock said, “You’re fine and perfectly healthy. But you’re going to end up killing yourself if you continue to skip out on your meals. So you need to eat something.”

“But--”

“Violet. You do realize that I can force you to eat if I want to. Don’t make me go to that option.”

Violet saw the look on his face. She saw that he was serious and just gave up. “Okay this one will eat something.” Violet said.

“Good.” Sherlock said, “And don’t even think about taking laxatives later.”

“Laxatives?” John asked with a shocked expressions.

“Okay, this one won’t take them.” Violet said to him.

“You’re lying.”

“Violet knows.”

 

Violet started to look through the menu to see what she wanted, while John was stunned by what he just heard. He turned to Sherlock, “She takes laxatives?” He asked him, with Violet blocking out the conversation. “She does, occasionally after she eats.” Sherlock told him.

“Ah.” Was the only thing John could say.

About 30 minutes had passed since they had arrived at the restaurant and there was still no sign of the one they were looking for. A candle had already been placed on the table (Much to John’s dislike since him and Sherlock were not together). Violet was eating what was on her plate, just taking small bites from it with a bored look on her face.

Sherlock was drumming his fingers with a fast pace, obviously starting to get impatient and John was eating from his plate as well. There was nothing but silence between all of them, which John found a tiny bit awkward. He had decided to start up a conversation to pass the time.

“People don’t have arch-enemies.” John said.

That seemed to get Sherlock’s attention, when he turned away from the window. “I’m sorry.” He said.

“In real life.” John clarified, “There are no arch-enemies in real life. Doesn’t happen.”

“Doesn’t it?” Sherlock asked, “That sounds a bit dull.”

“So then who did I meet exactly?” John asked.

“What do real people have than, in their lives?”

“Friends? People they knew, people they like, people they don’t like. Girlfriends, boyfriends.”

“Yes, well, as I was saying… Dull.”

Once again, silence came between them. “So…” John said, “You don’t have a girlfriend then?”

“Girlfriend?” Sherlock said, “No, not really my area.”

“Mmm.” John said, “Oh right… Do you have a boyfriend than?”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. Once again, John felt a bit awkward. “Which is fine by the way…” He said.

“I know it’s fine.” Sherlock said.

“So you’ve got a boyfriend than?”

“No.”

“Right, okay. You’re unattached like me.”

John went back to eating what was on his plate. Sherlock came to his own conclusion to why John was asking him these questions. “John, um…” Sherlock said, “I think you should know that I consider myself married to my work, and while I’m flattered, I’m really not looking for any…”

John immediately shook his head, “No, I’m not asking you out on a date.”

“Good.” Was all Sherlock said, “Thank you.”

Violet couldn’t help but giggle at the conversation just now. John turned to Violet clearing his throat, “How about you? Do you have a boyfriend? Girlfriend?” Violet froze when John had asked that question. She hesitated as she answered, “This one did have a boyfriend, two months ago.”

“Did?” John asked curiously.

“Let Violet put it this way.” She said, “She doesn’t see herself dating again anytime soon.”

“It ended off badly than?”

“John can put it like that.”

Sherlock clenched his fist out of anger when Violet mentioned about her having a boyfriend, but made sure John nor Violet didn’t see it.

Just than across the street Sherlock saw a cab pull up. Violet noticed this too. “Look across the street.” Sherlock said to John.

John turned and saw the cab as well. “Taxi.” He said, “It’s stopped. Nobody getting in and nobody getting out. Why a taxi?”

They saw the passenger inside. “Oh that’s clever. Is it clever?” He said turning to Violet, “Why is it clever?”

“This one is wondering the same thing.” Violet said.

“That’s him than?” John said.

“Don’t stare.” Sherlock told him.

“Brother is staring.” Violet told him.

“We can’t all be staring.” He said, “Let’s go.”

Sherlock got up and grabbed his coat and scarf, Violet doing the same thing. John acted fast and grabbed his coat not knowing that he left his cane behind; he meeted them outside. The minute the cab started to drive off, Sherlock ran right into the street almost getting hit by the car.

“ **SHERLOCK! WAIT FOR VIOLET!** ” Violet exclaimed, going the same way Sherlock did.

John ran after while saying sorry to the driver that nearly hit Sherlock.

The cab drove away from where they were standing.

“I’ve got the cab number!” John said

“Good for you!” Sherlock said. He shut his eyes and then started to see a map of the cab’s route in his head. Determining which was the quickest route to take.

He started to say, “Right turn, one way, roadworks, traffic lights, bus lane, pedestrian crossing, left turn only, traffic lights.”

His eyes shot open and ran into the alleyway. Violet followed behind as did John. They soon went into a building with a spiral staircase until they reached the rooftops. Sherlock jumped across from one building to another. Violet jumped after him, managing to grab on the ledge; She was struggling to climb up but had trouble. Sherlock quickly went over to her and pulled her up to safety. John stopped in his tracks and looked down.

“ **JOHN COME ON!** ” Sherlock shouted to him, “ **WE’RE LOSING HIM!** ”

John pretty much thought, “Screw it!” And he jumped the gap, making it across.

They ran down the stairs from the building they jumped to. They had just missed the cab.

“ **THIS WAY!** ” Sherlock shouted running to the right. Violet followed behind him while John ran the opposite way. “ **NO THIS WAY!** ” Sherlock shouted to him. John was quick to go where they went, “ **SORRY!** ” He said.

Soon enough they managed to catch up with the cab. Sherlock jumped in front of it causing it to come to a complete stop. “ **POLICE!** ” Sherlock said flashing a police ID to the driver, “ **OPEN THE DOOR!** ”

He opened the passenger's door, and the man that was sitting in there was confused. Sherlock gritted his teeth, and Violet gave out a disappointed grunt before coughing. “No.” Sherlock said to John.

John gave a confused look to him.

“Teeth, tan. What Californian?” Sherlock said, before looking at the bag that was beside him, “LA, Santa Monica. Just arrived.”

“How could you possibly know that?” John asked.

“It’s on the luggage.” Violet told him pointing to it.

“It’s probably your first trip to London, right?” Sherlock asked him, “Going by your final destination and the route your cabbie was taking you.”

 

“Sorry, are you guys with the police?” The man asked Sherlock and John.

“Yeah.” He said, before flashing the ID to the man, “Everything alright?”

“Yeah.” The man replied, still a bit confused.

“Welcome to London.” Sherlock said with a smile, taking Violets hand and walking away

“Uh, any problems, let us know.” John said to the man, he walked over to where Sherlock and Violet were. He said to them, “So he just stopped in front of the restaurant by chance?”

“Yeah, basically.” Sherlock said, patting Violet on the back as she coughed.

“Not the murderer?”

“Not the murderer, no.”

“Wrong country, good alibi.”

“As they go.”

John took the ID from Sherlock’s hand, “Where did you get this anyway?” He asked him. He opened ID and saw that it had belonged to--

“Detective Inspector Lestrade?” John had read.

“Yeah.” Sherlock said, “I pickpocket him when he’s annoying. You can keep that one I’ve got plenty at the flat.”

Violet had stopped coughing; She started to giggle, leaving both Sherlock and John confused to why she was giggle. “What?” Sherlock asked her, “What’s so funny?”

“Just Sherlock saying welcome to London.” Violet said to him with a smile.

John laughed at that too and Sherlock sniggered. They soon saw the passenger in the cab, talking to an actual police officer. “Got your breath back?” Sherlock asked John.

“Ready when you are.” John said.

“Last one back to the flat is a reeking corpse!” Violet said, and she ran ahead of them. Soon enough Sherlock and John ran after her.

 


	7. The Drugs Bust

The three of them made it back to 221B Baker Street, all of them equally out of breath. Violet threw her coat and bag over by a nearby chair, she leaned on the wall with Sherlock and John, and started to let out coughs that were worse than before. John looked at her with a concerned look on his face. “Hey, are you okay?” John asked.

 

“Don’t worry.” Violet said with a reassuring smile, “Violet’s alright.” She started coughing again.

 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Sherlock asked her.

 

“Yeah.” Violet said taking a deep breath, “This one is okay.”

 

John smirked and said, “That was ridiculous. That was the most ridiculous thing I have ever done.”   
  


“And you invaded Afghanistan.” Sherlock said.

 

The three of them couldn’t help but laugh.

 

“That wasn’t just me.” John said, “Why aren’t we back at the restaurant?”

 

“They can keep an eye out. It was a long shot anyway.”

 

“So what were we doing there?”

 

“Oh, just passing the time. And proving a point.”

 

“What point?”

 

“You.”

 

Sherlock turned and shouted, “Mrs. Hudson! Dr. Watson will be taking the room upstairs!”

 

John looked at him all confused, “Says who?” Sherlock turned to him, and replied with a smile, “Says the man at the door.”

 

There was suddenly a knock at the door and John went to answer it and saw that it was Angelo, the owner of the restaurant that they were in earlier. “Sherlock texted me.” Angelo said, “He said you forgot this.”

 

Angelo handed him his cane. John couldn’t believe that he forgot about it at the restaurant. He turned back to Sherlock and all he did was give him a smile.

 

“Er, um…” John said, “Thank you.” He than went back into the flat closing the door behind him Mrs. Hudson emerged from her flat. “Sherlock, what have you done?” She asked looking distressed. Violet and Sherlock were both confused. “Is there something troubling Mrs. Hudson?” Violet had asked.

 

“Upstairs.” Mrs. Hudson told them.

 

Sherlock went up the stairs; Violet and John followed close behind him. He went into the living room, and all three of them were shocked to find officers within the flat and Lestrade sitting in Sherlock’s armchair. “What are you doing here?” Sherlock asked with an annoyed expression.

 

“Well, I knew you’d find the case, I’m not stupid.” Lestrade replied, “I’m not stupid.”

 

“You can’t just break into my flat.” Sherlock said.

 

Lestrade had retorted, “You can’t withhold evidence, and I didn’t break into your flat.”

 

“What do you call this than!?”

 

“... It’s a drugs bust.”

 

John couldn’t help but scoff at that, “Seriously? This two, a pair of junkies, have you met them?”

 

“John, really shouldn’t be speaking.” Violet said.

 

John had said, “I’m pretty sure you could search this flat all day, you wouldn’t find anything you could call recreational.”

 

Sherlock said, “John, you probably want to shut up now.”

 

“But come on.” John said.

 

All Sherlock did was stare and Violet turned away awkwardly.

 

“No.”

 

“What?”

 

“You?”

 

“Shut up.”

 

John turned to Violet, “You too Violet?” Violet rubbed the back of her neck and turned away from John, “This one did…” Violet said, not looking at him, “For awhile.” She rolled up her sleeve and John saw faded needle marks on parts of her arm. All John could do was gasp; she rolled her sleeve back down.

  
  


“I’m not your sniffer dog Lestrade!” Sherlock said.

 

Anderson had replied, “No, Anderson’s my sniffer dog.” Sherlock and Violet turned and saw Anderson in the kitchen. All he did was give them a small wave. “What are you doing here on a drug’s bust?” Sherlock asked.

 

“Oh I volunteered.” Anderson said.

 

“They all did. They’re not strictly speaking on the drug squad, but they’re very keen.” Lestrade said.

 

Donovan then came into view, holding a jar filled with eyes, “Are these human eyes?”

 

“ **PUT THOSE BACK!** ” Sherlock shouted.

 

“They were in the microwave.” She said

 

“It’s an experiment.” He retorted.

 

“Keep looking guys.” Lestrade said to them, “Or you could both help out properly and I’ll stand them down.”

 

“This is childish.” Sherlock said.

 

“Well, I’m dealing with two children.” He said, “Sherlock look this is our case. I’m letting you and your sister in, but you can’t just go off on your own. Are we clear on that?”

 

“So what? You set up a pretend drugs bust to bully me and Violet?” Sherlock said with a glare.

 

“It stops being pretend if they find anything.”  

 

“I am clean! We’re both clean!”

 

“Is your flat? All of it?”

 

“I don’t even smoke!”

 

Sherlock rolled up his sleeve to show Lestrade the nicotine patch. “Neither do I.” Lestrade said, as he rolled his sleeve up to show his nicotine patch. All Sherlock did was turn away from Lestrade and put his sleeves back down.

 

Anderson looked the through the kitchen cabinets and took out a bottle of medicine.

 

Violet saw what Anderson was holding. “What is this now?” Anderson said.

 

“ **PUT IT DOWN!** ” She exclaimed, as she went to charge at him. “Violet, don’t!” Sherlock shouted quickly grabbing her, lifting her a few inches off the ground so she wouldn’t run; she struggled to get out of his grip.

 

Anderson read the label on the bottle, “Benzodiazepines? These are usually used for panic disorders.” He stated, before turning to Violet, “Really? A psychopathic girl like you is one for panic disorders?”

 

“ **THOSE ARE VIOLET’S!** ” Violet had exclaimed, still trying to out of her brothers grip, “ **PUT IT THEM BACK WHERE ANDERSON FOUND THEM!!** ”

 

“Seriously?” Donovan said, “You have panic attacks since when?”

 

“ **THAT’S NONE OF SALLY’S CONCERN!** ” Violet shouted, causing Donovan to back up slightly, “ **NOW PUT--!!** ”

 

Violet started to groan in pain, she clenched her chest and started to hyperventilate. Sherlock had a panicked expression on his face, and John, being a doctor, immediately went over to Violet as Sherlock placed her on the ground. “Jesus, she’s having an attack!” John said after checking her.

 

“Anderson, give her the pills!” Lestrade told him.

 

“What?” Anderson said, in disbelief but somewhat panicked, “You’ve seen how she acts she’s fa--”

 

“ **NOW ANDERSON!** ” Lestrade shouted to him. Anderson nodded and threw the pills over to John, which he caught. He got out single pill and kneeled to Violet.

 

"Swallow this." John instructed, getting the pill into her mouth. Violet tilted her head back and swallowed the pill. The chest pains were gone after a minute had passed, and she started to take deep breaths. “Are you okay?” Sherlock asked her.

 

Violet turned to him and nodded, “This one is good.” She said, “Sherlock and John shouldn’t worry now.”

  
  


Sherlock, John and Lestrade all sighed with relief. “Alright.” Lestrade said, “Now that everything’s calm, managed to find Rachel.”

 

Sherlock turned to Lestrade, “Who is she?”

 

“She’s Jennifer’s only daughter.” Lestrade replied.

 

The detective gave a confused look to them. “Her daughter?” He asked, “Why would she write her daughter’s name? Why?”

 

“Never mind that, we found the case.” Anderson said, “According to someone the murderer has the case, and we found it in the hands of our favorite pair of psychopaths.”

 

“I’m not a psychopath Anderson.” Sherlock said, “I’m a high functioning sociopath and Violet isn’t one I’d consider normal, do your research.” He turned back to Lestrade, “You need to bring Rachel in, you need to question her. I need to question her.”

 

“She’s dead.”

 

“Excellent. How and when?”

 

Violet couldn’t help but roll her eyes and face palm herself when Sherlock said that, and John was taken back slightly.

 

“Is there a connection? There has to be.” Sherlock said.

 

Lestrade had said, “Well I doubt it, I doubt it, since she’s been dead for 14 years. Technically she was never alive.”

 

Violet tilted her head in confusion, “What does Lestrade mean by that?” She asked standing up

 

He had replied, “Rachel was Jennifer Wilson’s stillborn daughter, 14 years ago.”  

 

“Stillborn?” Both John and Violet said in unison.

 

Sherlock said, “No, that’s… That’s not right, how? Why would she do that, why?

 

Anderson said, “Why would she think of her daughter in her last moments? Yeah, sociopath, I’m seeing it now.”

 

“She didn’t think about her daughter.” Sherlock said turning back to him, “She scratched her name on the floor with her fingernails. She was dying. It took effort, it would’ve hurt.”

 

“You said that the victims all took the poison themselves, that he makes them take it.” John said, “Maybe he, I don’t know talks to them. Maybe he used the death of her daughter somehow.”

 

“Yeah but that was ages ago!” He said to the doctor, “Why would she still be upset about that?”  The whole flat was in silence when those words came out of Sherlock’s mouth. Violet shook her head and all she said was, “Brother said it too soon.”

 

Sherlock looked around, “Not good?”

 

“Bit not good yeah.” John said.

 

Sherlock said to the two, “If one of you were dying… If you’d have been murdered in your very last few seconds, what would you say?”

 

“Please God let me live?” John suggested.

 

“Tell Violet’s husband and children that she loves them?” Violet had also suggested.

 

“Both of you come on, use your imagination!” He said.

 

“I don’t have to.” John said.

 

“This one usually uses it for when she paints.” Violet told him, “Brother knows this.”

 

“Yes but if you were clever. I mean, really clever.” Sherlock said, “Jennifer Wilson running all those lovers, she was clever.”

 

“Are you trying to say Violet’s not clever?” Violet said with anger in her voice, “This one finds it rather insulting.”

 

“No you know that’s not what I meant.” He said to her, “What I mean is, she’s trying to tell us something. Something important.”

 

Mrs. Hudson came up the stairs and looked in the living room. “Isn’t your doorbell working?” She asked Sherlock, “Your taxi is here.”

 

“I didn’t order a taxi, go away.” He said to Mrs. Hudson as he paced around in the living room. Violet on the other hand was curious as she tilted her head and said, “Violet and Sherlock’s taxi?” She went and looked over to the window and ignored everyone around her.

 

Mrs. Hudson looked around the flat seeing what the real damage that the police did. “Oh dear, they’re making a mess.” She said, “What are they looking for?”

 

“It’s a drug bust.” John said to her.

 

Mrs. Hudson said, “But they’re just for my hips. They’re herbal soothers.”   
  
“ **EVERYBODY SHUT UP! SHUT UP!** ” Sherlock suddenly exclaimed, “ **DON’T MOVE! DON’T SPEAK! DON’T BREATHE, I’M TRYING TO THINK! ANDERSON FACE THE OTHER WAY YOU’RE FACE PUTTING ME OFF!** ”

 

Anderson did a double take at that, “What? My face is?”

 

“Everybody be quiet and be still.” Lestrade instructed, “Anderson turn your back.”

 

“Oh for God’s sake!”

 

“Your back! Now please!”

 

Sherlock grunted angrily, “Come on! Think! Quick!”

 

“What about your taxi?” Mrs. Hudson asked.

 

Sherlock had shouted, “ **MRS. HUDSON!** ” Mrs. Hudson ran down the stairs, and no one noticed that Violet didn’t correct Sherlock at all for just shouting at Mrs. Hudson. Sherlock's eyes soon widened in realization.

 

“Oh.” He said, “Ah! She was clever. Clever yes! She’s cleverer than all of you and she’s dead! Do you see? Do you get it?”

 

“Huh? What do you mean?” John asked.

 

Sherlock had replied, “Don’t you see? She didn’t lose her phone, she never lost it to begin with it. She planted on him. When she got out of her car, she knew she was going to her death. She left the phone in order to lead us to her killer.”   
  


“But how?” Lestrade asked him.

 

“What do you mean how?” He asked the DI.All Lestrade did was give him a shrug. “ **RACHEL!** ” He exclaimed, “ **DON’T YOU SEE!? RACHEL!** ” Everyone was just confused by what Sherlock was trying to tell them.

 

“Oh…” The detective said, “Look at all of you. All so vacant. Is it not nice being me? It must be so relaxing.”

 

Once again, not one noticed that Violet was there to tell Sherlock to keep his thoughts to himself; not even Sherlock realized it.

 

“Rachel is not a name.” Sherlock had clarified for them.

 

“If it’s not a name, than what is it?” John asked.

 

“John on the luggage, there’s a label. E-mail address.” He said.

 

John checked the label and saw the name of Jennifer's e-mail. Sherlock went to sit by his computer. “Er, [jenniepink@mephone.org.uk](mailto:jenniepink@mephone.org.uk).” John read.

 

“Oh, I’ve been too slow.” Sherlock said, “She didn’t have a laptop, which means she did her business on her phone. So it’s a Smartphone, it’s e-mail enabled. So those are website for her account. The username is her e-mail address and all together the password is?”

 

“Rachel.” Anderson finished, “So what? We can read her e-mails now?”  

 

Sherlock proceeded to type the username and the password which was indeed Rachel.

 

“Anderson don’t talk. You lower the IQ of the whole street.” Sherlock said as he rolled his eyes, “We can do much more than read her e-mails. It’s a smartphone, it’s got a GPS. Which means if you lose it you can find it online. She’s leading us straight to her killer.”

 

“Unless he got rid of it.” Lestrade suggested.

 

“We know he didn’t.” Sherlock said.

 

He started to up the number on the GPS on the map provided. “Come on, come on.” He said. Mrs. Hudson came up the stairs again. “Sherlock dear.” Mrs. Hudson said, “This taxi driver…”

 

Sherlock got up from his seat and went over to her, “Mrs. Hudson, isn’t about time for your evening soother?” He asked her, fixing his shirt a bit.

 

John went to the computer and looked at the map.

 

“Get the vehicles.” Sherlock said to Lestrade, “Get a helicopter. We’re gonna have to move fast. This phone battery won’t last forever.”

 

“We’ll just have map preference, not a name.” Lestrade said to him.

 

“Well it’s a start!” He said to him.

 

The map began to let out a beeping sound. John saw this, “Sherlock?” He said trying to get his attention.

 

Sherlock didn’t hear him at first. “Narrows it down to just anyone in London.” He said to Lestrade, “It’s the first proper lead that we’ve had.”

 

“Sherlock?” John said again, finally getting his attention.

 

“Where is it?” Sherlock said going over to him, “Quickly, where?”

 

The map showed the phone’s location. “It’s here.” John said, with confusion, “It’s in 221B Baker Street.”

 

Sherlock was just as confused as he was. “How can it be here?” He asked, “How?”

 

Lestrade than suggested, “Well, maybe it was in the case when you bought it back and it fell out somewhere.” That just sent Sherlock into even more confusion, “What? And I didn’t notice it? Me? Nor Violet? We didn’t notice it?”

 

“Anyway, we texted him and he called back.” John said to Lestrade.

 

“Look there’s no other explanation.” Donovan told him.

 

“No there has to be something.” Sherlock said, “Something else. Violet what do you--” It was only than Sherlock had realized that Violet was nowhere to be seen. John and Lestrade noticed it too.

 

“Where’s Violet?” John asked.

 

Sherlock began to look around the flat, calling out her name to see if she was anywhere. When he saw she wasn’t in her room or even upstairs, panic began to raise. “Did anyone see her leave!?” Sherlock asked the officers in the flat, “Anyone at all!?”

 

They all shook their heads as an answer to his question. “Maybe she just stepped out to get some fresh air?” John aske him.

 

“No, you don’t know her like I do.” Sherlock said, “She never goes out by herself at least not without letting me know first.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Of course I’m sure!”

 

Sherlock then turned his attention to the window. He saw a cab parked outside of the flat. He couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at this. But then he saw a girl with a familiar purple headband with a flower attached to the top, talking to the cab driver, and going into the back seat. His eyes widened in fear and he ran down the stairs ignoring John calling out to him.

 

He grabbed his coat and saw that on the chair, Violet’s coat and bag were still on the chair. He ran outside with his coat being sloppy put on just as the cab drove off.

  
He stopped and saw Violet looking back; He saw fear written in her eyes. It wasn’t long before he started to run after the cab. 


	8. Play the Game

- ** _221B Baker Street; Earlier_** -

 

“Yeah but that was ages ago!” He said to the doctor, “Why would she still be upset about that?”  The whole flat was in silence when those words came out of Sherlock’s mouth. Violet shook her head and all she said was, “Brother said it too soon.”

 

Sherlock looked around, “Not good?”

 

“Bit not good yeah.” John said.

 

Sherlock said to the two, “If one of you were dying… If you’d have been murdered in your very last few seconds, what would you say?”

 

“Please God let me live?” John suggested.

 

“Tell Violet’s husband and children that she loves them?” Violet had also suggested.

 

“Both of you come on, use your imagination!” He said.

 

“I don’t have to.” John said.

 

“This one usually uses it for when she paints or draws.” Violet told him, “Brother knows this.”

 

“Yes but if you were clever. I mean, really clever.” Sherlock said, “Jennifer Wilson running all those lovers, she was clever.”

 

“Are you trying to say Violet’s not clever?” Violet said with anger in her voice, “This one finds it rather insulting.”

 

“No, you know that’s not what I meant.” He said to her, “What I mean is, she’s trying to tell us something. Something important.”

 

Mrs. Hudson came up the stairs and looked in the living room. “Isn’t your doorbell working?” She asked Sherlock, “Your taxi is here.”

 

“I didn’t order a taxi, go away.” He said to Mrs. Hudson as he paced around in the living room. Violet on the other hand was curious as she tilted her head and said, “Violet and Sherlock’s taxi?” She went and looked over to the window and ignored everyone around her. She looked out the window and saw that there was indeed a taxi outside, and a man standing out of it, waiting patiently.

 

He noticed her, at the window staring at him. He gave a smile and waved at her. Just the look in his eyes, Violet felt uneasy; her hand started to tremble slightly. It only took her seconds to realize why she had that uneasy feeling.

 

She thought about what Sherlock said to her and John, earlier that night.

 

“ _Who do we trust even though we don’t know them? Who passes unnoticed wherever they go? Who hunts in the middle of the crowd?_ ”

 

“The Invisible car… ***** ” Violet whispered to herself, no one had heard her, “The London Cab… ***** ”

 

( ** _*Both of these are a reference to the unused version of Sherlock A Study in Pink. Can be found online or on the DVD_** )

 

Without anyone noticing she stepped out of the living room and went down the stairs. She went out of the door without putting on her coat, or even getting her bag. She stepped out, slightly shivering from the cold.

 

“Taxi for Sherlock and Violet Holmes.” The Cabbie Driver said.

 

Violet shut the door behind her. “This one and Sherlock didn’t order a taxi.” Violet said to him.

 

“Oh, but you need me.” The Cab Driver said to her, “Did you figure out this little puzzle than?”

 

Violet nodded her head to him; she pointed to him and said, “It was the Driver, that stopped in front of the restaurant. It was never the passenger to begin with.”

 

“See?” He said impressed, “No one ever suspects the driver. You’re just the back of the head. No one sees you. It’s ideal for a serial killer.”

 

Violet tilted her head, “Is the Driver confessing his crime?”

 

“Oh yes.” He replied, “In fact if you call the police now, I won’t run. I promise to be compliant and let them arrest me.”

 

“Why would the Driver do that?”

 

“Because you’re not going to do it.”

 

“Why wouldn’t this one do it?”

 

“I didn’t kill those four people Miss Holmes. I just talked to them and then they killed themselves. If you call the police right now, I won’t tell you what I said to them.”

 

All Violet did was stare at the man before her; she didn’t want to admit it but he was right. She wanted to call out to Lestrade and the others right now, but something in stopped her from doing so. She continued to talk to him. “But… No one else will have to die.” She said to him

 

“But… It would remain a mystery to how I made them kill themselves.” He said as he got in the driver's seat, “Which would you choose?”

 

Violet gulped and clenched her hand. She wanted to know; She wanted to know the mystery behind to how he killed the four victims. She walked over to the open window of the driver's seat and leaned over.

 

“Violet wants to understand.” She said, “What would this one have to do exactly?”

 

“Since you don’t want your brother to come down here, you and only you can go on a drive with me.” The Cabbie Driver said to her.

 

“So this one can get killed too?”

 

“I don’t want to kill you Miss Holmes. All I want to do is talk to you. And then you’ll kill yourself… Just like before.”

 

Violet looked up at the flat where her brother was. She bit her lip and then went towards the rear door; The Driver couldn’t help but smile in satisfaction. She got in and slammed the door behind her. The cab started up and they started to drive down the block.

 

Violet couldn’t help but look back; She saw her brother run out of the flat and watched helplessly as the cab drove off; he started to run to try to catch the cab she was currently in.

 

“ ** _Brother…_** ” Violet thought trying to stop her hand from trembling, “ ** _I’m sorry.*_** ”

 

( ** _*In Violet’s thoughts. She doesn’t talk in third person_** )

* * *

 

- ** _Present_** -

 

John watched as Sherlock suddenly ran down the block. “Sherlock’s chasing a cab…” John said, turning to Lestrade, “It’s Violet. She just got into a cab, and he ran after it.”

 

“It’s just like I said, they do that.” Donovan said, “So it’s typical of them.”

 

John tried calling the phone that belonged to Jennifer Wilson. “The victim’s phone is ringing, but there’s no answer.”

 

“Than it’s not here.” Lestrade said.

 

“I’m gonna try to the GPS again.” He said, as he went to the computer.

 

“It doesn’t matter now.” Donovan said, “They’re just self-obsessed and all of this is just a waste of time.”

 

All Lestrade did was stare at Donovan, for the longest time; Eventually he just gave out a sigh, “Right well, let’s pack it up.”

* * *

 

- ** _Within the Cab_** -

 

Violet was messing around with a golden heart locket that was around her neck. She opened up the locket and there was a small picture inside it. Within the picture there was her five-year old self wearing a white dress and had on a brown sun hat, in the middle of two adults. One was of a young woman with long raven black hair and green eyes wearing a grey dress hoodie and had her arms around her. Next to the young woman was a man who had brown hair with brown eyes who wore a plain white buttoned up shirt with jeans and he had his hand on Violet’s head.

 

She pressed a small button on the side and it played music while a woman sang “Frere Jacques.” It seemed to calm her down a bit, given her current situation. It wasn’t long till the Cabbie driver talked to her. “That’s a fine little tune ain’t it?” He said, “Is that a present from your brother?”

 

In the rearview mirror, he saw Violet shake her head, “This is from this one originals. Before her new family.” She replied not looking up to him.

 

“They made that for you than?”

 

“For Violet’s birthday. He was an inventor of toys and she was a singer. This is all Violet has to remember of them. The originals are gone; They left this one's side, earlier than expected.”

 

“At least you're in a good hands now Miss Holmes. They must be happy for you.”

 

The song came to an end, and Violet closed the locket shut. She looked up to him, “This one has a question for you.” She said, “How did the Driver know, about this one’s near-death experience? No one else knew about it except for Lestrade and this one's brothers.”

 

“A fan of your brother told me about it.” The cabbie Driver replied, “He’s a fan of your artwork as well. He’s seen you post your drawings online whenever you and Sherlock complete a case.”

 

“Who is a fan of Violet and Sherlock?” Violet asked. She noticed a picture of a young boy and a girl which was attached to the dashboard of the cab; part of the photo had been torn, and there was shaving cream behind his left ear. She clarified for him, “Who would know of this one and Sherlock?”

 

“You’re too modest. You and brother.”

 

“This one finds it hard to believe that Violet and Sherlock are modest.”

 

“You and him, both got a fan.”

 

“Than tell Violet who he is.”

 

The Driver shook his head and replied, “That’s all you gotta know…” He paused letting it sink in. He than mumbled, “In this lifetime.”

* * *

 

- ** _Meanwhile at 221B Baker Street_** -

 

Everyone had finished getting everything together and had already left the flat; Lestrade went to get his coat. John couldn’t help but ask Lestrade, “Why did they both leave? You know them better than I do.”

 

Lestrade replied as he put on his coat, “I’ve known Sherlock for five years. Violet on the other hand, I didn’t even know she existed until two months ago.”

 

“So then how do you put up with them?” He asked him, “And what do you know about Violet exactly?”

 

Lestrade explained, “About two months ago, we were investigating a teen named Parker Williams; He was suspected in kidnapping girls that were around his age. His uncle was the one that called us. We had gotten a warrant to search his house when we had finally gathered enough evidence, and what we found was very gruesome.”

 

“Gruesome?” John said out of curiosity.

 

“Well during the case, the girls that went out with him, went missing after a few days. No one found their bodies or anything of sort. When we searched his basement, we found that he was killing the girls and stuffing them like what hunter does when he catches a deer, and treated them like they were dolls. The poor girl Violet was almost his next victim; We found her on a table, severely injured.”  

 

John felt sick to his stomach when he heard that, and what’s worse, Violet was pretty much caught in the middle. “My God, that’s awful…” John said.

 

Lestrade continued. “She was rushed to the hospital and had to go through surgery. When I went to go check on her, after catching the bastard, I heard Sherlock yelling at one of the nurses, for not letting him or his brother see her. If I didn’t step in they would’ve probably kicked him out. That was probably the first time I’ve ever seen actually scared for someone’s life. While we were waiting for her to come out of surgery, Sherlock explained that Violet was his little sister and that she was adopted into his family years ago.”

 

“Sherlock did mention that to me. Was she, abandoned by her parents?”

 

“From what Sherlock told me, her parents had just suddenly disappeared. I would ask more about it, but to be honest, I think it’s best to be left alone. All I know is, when they did go missing, a friend of Sherlock’s parents, who was Violet’s tutor asked them to take her in, since he was unable to take care of her himself.”

 

Lestrade fixed his coat, “As for why I put up with them, it’s because I’m desperate, that’s why.” He said walking to the door, “It’s also because Sherlock is a great man, and one day if we’re lucky, he may even be a good one.”

 

With that Lestrade took his leave.

* * *

 

- _ **At that Moment**_ -

 

The taxi soon came to a stop in front of two identical buildings. The Cabbie Driver got up of the taxi and went to open the passenger's door for Violet. Violet turned to him, “Where did the Driver take this one?” Violet asked him.

 

“I think you know very well where we are.” The Driver said to her.

 

Violet nodded her head, “Roland Kerr Further College, where this one had attended. Why here though?”  

 

The Driver replied, “It’s open. Night cleaning. See, the thing about being a driver is, you know exactly where all deserted spots are. A job made for a serial killer.”

 

Violet asked him, “How does the Driver make his victims walk in?”

 

The Driver pulled out a pistol and pointed towards her, with his finger on the trigger. Violet couldn’t help but give out a disappointing sigh, “That’s a shame, this one was expecting something less boring.”

 

“Oh trust me, it get’s more interesting.”

 

“Violet doesn’t see the point of the Driver threatening his victims to take their lives.”

 

“Don’t worry, we won’t be needing this.” The Driver put away the gun, “I know that you’ll come along.”

 

Violet stepped out of the car and followed the Driver into the building.

* * *

 

- ** _221B Baker Street_** -

 

John was the only left, in the flat of 221B. After hearing part of the story of Violet, he honestly didn’t know what to think. To think that she would go through such an ordeal; that poor girl he couldn’t help but think. He decided to call a night and was about to leave the flat when the computer started to beep. He was about to check it out when he heard the door slam downstairs.

 

Sherlock came up the stairs, out of breath and sweating from running; he fell to his knees trying to catch his breath. John went over to him, “Where have you been?” He asked all concerned.

 

Sherlock replied, as he took deep breaths, “Chased… Taxi… Ran for… 7 blocks… straight… Lost it… On the… Main road… Came back… Remembered… Her phone…”

 

John went to the kitchen and got him a cup of water. Sherlock took it from him and immediately gulped it down. “Ah, thank you.” He said to John, after his breath came back. He than went over to the computer to see where the phone was located.

 

“Where’s Violet?” John asked, “In all honesty I thought you would be with her.”

 

“She’s with him John!” Sherlock told him, taking the computer and unplugging it from it’s charger, “She’s with our culprit!”

 

“Culprit? What do you mean?”

 

“The phone was here, but it wasn’t within this flat! The taxi that was here! The driver, he was one that has it! And now Violet, my sister is in danger, all because I didn’t notice it sooner!”

 

John’s eyes widened, in horror. It had finally sunk in as he said, “Oh God! Violet! We’ve gotta get to her!”

 

Sherlock ran down the stairs shouting to John, “Come on then! There’s no time to lose!”

 

John ran after him forgetting about his cane once again.

* * *

 

- ** _Roland Kerr Further College_** -

 

Violet followed the Driver through various halls of the college building. They soon came to a stop at two double doors. The Driver opened the door for Violet. “Lady’s first.” He said to her. All Violet did was give him a glance, and she went into the room. The Driver followed her inside and the door shut behind him. He turned on the light and the room was revealed to be a classroom. There were desks that connected with one another and various chairs within the classroom.

 

“How is this place?” He asked her, “The place where you’ll die?”

 

Violet turned to him, “This one isn’t going to die.”

 

“Weren’t you the one trying to kill yourself?”

 

“Violet didn’t mean to. It was an accident.”

 

“An accident, was it? Was it really?”

 

He sat down on one of the seats. “Shall we talk?” He asked her. Violet took a chair in front and sat on the opposite side of the Driver. “Doesn’t the Driver think it was risking? Taking Violet with polices officers in our flat. Brother had already seen this one in the back of his cab, and he can be protective over Violet. And Mrs. Hudson… She’ll remember the Driver's face.

 

“You call that a risk?” The Driver asked, “This is a risk.”

 

Out of his jacket pocket he took out a small bottle containing a single pill. He placed it in the middle of the table, and Violet tilted her head.

 

“Ahh. That’s fun.” The Driver said, seeing the look on her face, “You don’t get it. Don’t worry. You’ll understand soon, when you see this.”

 

He went through his jacket pocket again, and he took out another small bottle which had also contained a single pill, which looked alike from the pill next to it; he placed it next to the other pill. Violet tilted her head the other way.

 

“That’s unexpected isn’t it?” The Driver said to her, “You’re going to love this.”

 

“Love what?” Violet asked him

 

He replied, “Being able to meet the sister of Sherlock Holmes. You’re fan told me all about his sight, and your work of course.”

 

“Violet and Sherlock’s fan?”

 

“You and him are brilliant. A pair of proper geniuses. ‘The Science of Deduction’. Now that’s real thinking. Just between you and him, everyone else is just idiots. Why can’t people just use their heads?”

 

Violet thought about what he was saying to her. She soon but together. “This one understands now.” Violet said, “The Driver is a proper genius. Just like Violet and Sherlock.”

 

He smiled at her when she got it right, “I don’t look like it don’t I? Just a worthless cab driver. That’s all people see, even though it’s not true. Knowing that you’re going to die.”

 

Violet looked at the two bottles again. “If it doesn’t trouble the Driver, can he explain to this one what the two bottles are about?”

 

The Driver had replied, “There’s a right one, and there’s a wrong one. Take the right one, and you’ll live. Take the wrong one, and you’ll die.”

 

“Yet they both look alike.”

 

“Correct.”

 

“And the Driver can tell them apart?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“But this one can’t?”

 

“It wouldn’t be a game if you knew. You’re the one who chooses.”

 

“Why? Violet is at a disadvantage.”

 

“Oh but wait, there’s more. You take the one you like, than I take the one that’s left behind. Then, we both take the pill together. I won’t cheat. You choose first. I take the one you don’t choose… Unexpected, isn’t it?”

 

Violet couldn’t help but grin when the Driver said that. Her grin faded when she asked, “The Driver, he let the other four choose too?”

 

“Now it’s your turn.” The Driver said, “Take your time. Think well. Let’s play a nice game.”

 

“This is just chance.”

 

“I’ve played four times, and I’m still alive. That’s not a coincidence. This is chess, with just one move. One survivor. And this… is the move.”

 

He took the pill on the right and pushed it over to Violet. “Tell me… Did I just give you the good pill, or the bad pill? You can choose either one.”

 

All Violet did was tilt her head and thought about what the bottle he had just pushed over to her, trying to think.

* * *

 

- ** _Meanwhile_** -

 

They managed to get a cab and they drove to their destination. John was on the phone trying to get in contact with Lestrade. “No I need to speak to Inspector Lestrade!” John said, “It’s urgent; I need to speak to him!”

 

“Turn left here!” Sherlock practically shouted to the driver.

 

John eventually said, “Alright just tell him to go to Roland Kerr Further College! Tell him Violet is in trouble, and to meet us there!” He than hung up his phone.

 

“Lestrade won’t get to her in time.” Sherlock told him.

 

“But Lestrade can--”

 

“If we wait for him, it’s going to be too late for her!”

 

“What do you suggest we do than?! Her life is at stake!”

 

“I’ll figure it out when we get there… Go right!”

 

The cab turned right and they were just about halfway there to their destination.

* * *

 

- ** _Back at Roland Further Kerr College_** -

 

Violet and the Driver both sat their in silence. All Violet kept on doing was tilting her head left and right, deciding on what her next choice of words would be. The Driver was doing the same thing as she was.

 

“Are you ready yet, Miss Holmes?” He asked her, “Ready to play?”

 

“Play what exactly?” Violet asked him, “This one only has a 50-50 chance.”

 

“You’re not playing numbers. You’re playing me. Did I give you the good pill or the bad pill? Is it a bluff, or a double bluff? Or a triple bluff?”

 

“This is still just chance.”

 

“Four people in the row? It’s not chance.”

 

“It’s luck.”

 

“It’s genius! I know how people think. I know how people think I think. I can see it all like a map inside my head. Everyone’s so stupid, even you. Or maybe just God loves me.”

 

Violet sat up straighter and leaned over to him, “Either way, the Driver is wasted as a cabbie.” She said to him.

* * *

 

- ** _Outside_** -

 

Sherlock and John managed to make it to their destination but came across a major problem. The buildings were identical and they didn’t know where to go. “She could be in either one of these buildings.” John said to Sherlock, “What if we don’t make it to her in time?”

 

“We have to.” Sherlock said, “Come on! Follow me!”

 

Sherlock ran into the building on the left and John followed close behind him.

 

“Violet!” Sherlock thought through his head, “You had better be alive!”

* * *

 

- ** _Inside_** -

 

Violet put her hands together and tilted her head as she stared into the eyes of the Driver. “So the Driver, risked his life four times to kill strangers?” Violet said to him, “Why would he do that?”

 

“Time to the play.” The Driver said.

 

“Violet is playing.” She said, “This one is adding her own rules. And now this is her turn.”

 

She than began her deduction, “The Driver has shaving foam, behind his left ear. Nobody pointed it out to him. They’re traces of where it’s happened before, so it’s obvious that the Driver lived on his own and there’s no one to tell him what’s what. He has a photograph of children, however the mother has been cut out of the picture. If she’d die, he would still have her in the photo. The photograph is old, but the frame is new. The Driver thinks of his children but he doesn’t get to see them. So the Driver is an estranged father. His wife took the kids but he still loves them and it still hurts.”

 

At that point Violet couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the man in front of her. She kept that feeling from showing in her eyes. She continued her deduction, “But there’s more. The Driver’s clothing, it’s been recently laundered however everything he’s wearing is no more than three years old. He keeps up appearance, yet he doesn’t plan ahead. Yet here he is, on a kamikaze murder spree. This one wonders what that’s about?”

 

All the man did was stare into her eyes, and that moment, she understood. “Oh…” She said sadly, “Three years ago. That’s when they told him, wasn’t it?”

 

“Told me what exactly?” The Driver asked her.

 

Violet’s sympathy showed in her eyes, “The Driver… Is a deadman walking. This one is sorry that you don’t have long.”

 

The Driver for only a moment turned his eyes away from the young teen. When he picked up his head, Violet was surprised to see that he was smiling. “Aneurysm.” He said pointing to his head, “Right here. Death is imminent for me. Any air I breath can be my last.”

 

“Is that why the Driver killed those four people?”

 

“I’ve outlived four people, and to be quite honest, I’m glad that my hour of death is near.”

 

Violet gave a quizzical expression towards the man, “The Driver has a different reason than? He wouldn’t have killed those four other people otherwise.” Violet said, “There is only so many things can motivate a person.”

 

Violet than thought back to the picture of his children, “Brother always did say to Violet, love can be a dangerous motivator.” She said, “The reason why the Driver is killing people… It’s for his children, isn’t it?”

 

The Driver laughed slightly, “As expected from a proper genius.”

 

That pretty much answered Violets question. He said to her, “I know how much their inheritance will be. Being a taxi driver is not profitable.”

 

“Neither is being a serial killer.”

 

“You’re wrong.”

 

“How is this one wrong?”

 

The Driver leaned forward in his seat. “... I have a sponsor.”

 

Violet tilted her head once more, “Sponsor? What does he mean?”

 

The Driver explained, “The money I get for killing goes to them. The more I kill, the more I get.”

 

“Who would pay the Driver for killing?”

 

“Who would become a fan of Sherlock and Violet Holmes? There are people besides from you and your brother who enjoys murder. In the end you and him are only one person. They’re much bigger.”

 

“Bigger? Do you mean whoever the Driver has a sponsor has an organization?”

 

“No one says his name. I won’t say it either. That’s enough chatter, it’s time to choose.”

 

Violet looked at the two bottles wondering if she should actually choose. She looked to him and asked, “What happens if Violet doesn’t choose? She could just walk out of here.”

 

The Driver pulled out the gun from his pocket and pointed at her. Violet didn’t seem to flinch when she saw the gun. “Are you going to take that 50-50 chance?” The Driver asked her, “Or do you want to lose your head? Somehow, no one ever choose the gun.”

 

Violet smiled and replied, “This one would like to have the gun.”

 

“Are you sure about that?”

 

“Yes. Go ahead and shoot Violet.”

 

“Want to call your friends?”

 

“Violet rather not. Now go ahead. Shoot this one.”

 

The Driver pulled the trigger; however instead of bullets, there was a small flame. Apparently, the gun was actually a lighter.

 

“This one feels offended for the Driver thinking she was a fool.” Violet said, “Violet has lived with Sherlock long enough to know a real gun when she sees it.”

 

The Driver pulled back and removed his finger from the trigger; the flame vanished. “None of the others did.”

 

“It would seem so.” Violet said. She got up from her seat, “This has been indeed interesting. This one looks forward to the court case. If you’ll excuse Violet, she has to hurry back home. Her brother might be throwing a fit”

 

She opened the door but stopped when the Driver said, “Just one more thing. Did you figure it out? Which one is the right bottle?”

 

Violet turned her head slightly towards him, “Of course this one figured it out. It was easy for her.”

 

“Well than, which one is it?” He asked her, “Which one did you choose? Let me know so I can die in peace. Come on… Play the game.”

 

Violet let the door shut and she went back over to the table and took the bottle that was on the left. “Oooh... How interesting.” The Driver said, taking the bottle that was left over. He took the pill out of the small bottle and held it up, while Violet stared at the bottle her hand slightly shaking.

 

“Let’s see about the result… Shall we?” The Driver said with a smile, “How do you think you’ll go? Will you win? Will you bet your life, or will you inflict it?”

 

Violet let out a shaky breath as she removed the pill from the small bottle. She held it in the palm of her hand.

 

“You’re life is boring, isn’t it?” The Driver asked, “Isn’t it? That’s the fate of someone as clever as you and your brother.”

 

She closed one eye and held it up to the light, her hand was still trembling.

 

“But even with such intelligence, it’s useless if you can’t prove it.” He continued to say.

 

She held the pill in front of her now; she gulped and bit her lip in anxiety.

 

“Savor it. This is it.” He said, “The thrill that you long for.”

 

She bought the pill closer and closer to her mouth. The Driver doing the same.

 

“You’d do anything, to not be bored.” He said, “You’re having now, aren’t you? You’re shaking with anticipation.”

 

Just when she was about to swallow it; A gunshot suddenly rang through her ears causing her to scream, drop the pill and squeeze her eyes shut. When she opened them, she saw that the Driver was on the floor, lying on his back which caused her to back up slightly. She turned and saw that the window was cracked; she went over to it and looked through the hole.

 

She saw that the building across from where she stood had its window open, indicating that someone shot from there.

 

“ ** _Who…?_** ” She thought trying to get her hands to stop trembling.

 

It wasn’t long till she heard the Driver let out a groan; she turned to him and saw him gasping for air.

 

“ ** _He’s alive?_** ” She said in her thoughts. She quickly went over to him and saw that he was bleeding from the shoulder; Violet couldn’t help but let her eyes widen in horror. The scene that was happening before her was all to familiar to her and she couldn’t help but shake.

 

For a moment she saw the man in the photo of her locket; his white shirt stained in red staining the carpet floor, and gasping for air. Violet squeezed her eyes shut and shook the image out her head.

 

“ ** _Calm down Violet…What you’re seeing is not real. Don’t let your delusions fool you, it’s not real!_** ”

 

She opened her eyes again and found herself back in reality. The Driver was still gasping for air.

 

“ ** _What would Sherlock do though? I can’t exactly leave here without something. What should--_** ”

 

Violet than thought about what he mentioned before.

 

“ ** _The sponsor! I can get the name of his sponsor!_** ”

 

“The sponsor the Driver mentioned before! Violet and Sherlock’s fan! Tell this one his name!” Violet demanded.

 

The Driver shook his head; He struggled to speak, “I won’t say his name…”

 

Violet squeezed her hands. She knew there was one way to get his name. She didn’t want to do it. He was on the verge of dying and she didn’t want to do it.

 

“ ** _It’s the only way…_** ”

 

Violet said to the Driver, “This one is sorry she has to do this, but she needs to know. Tell her his name.”

 

The Driver shook his head again. Violet turned eyes away, and she stepped on his shoulder where had been shot; she stepped on it hard causing him to scream out in agony.

 

“Say it quickly! **NOW!** ” She said continuing to step on his wound; he screamed louder.

 

“ **THE NAME!!** ” She shouted

 

The Driver had finally screamed, “ **MORIARTY!!** ” And thus his life had left his eyes. Violet back up from him, her bottom boot stained with his blood. She backed up until she hit the wall; she found herself instead of staring at the dead body of the cabbie driver, she saw a puddle of blood and a couple laying in it; the woman wearing a dress hoodie and a man who was stained with blood and jeans both of their eyes rolled back and their skin pale.

 

Violet felt her body shut down and the whole world went black and she fell to the ground.


	9. Once Upon a December

- ** _Earlier; Roland Kerr Further College_** -

Both Sherlock and John ran through the various halls of the college, and searching every room they came across for the young teen Violet. They kept on repeating this with pattern every time, but Violet was nowhere in sight. “ **VIOLET!** ” John shouted, “ **VIOLET!** ”

“ **VIOLET WHERE ARE YOU!?** ” Sherlock shouted.

They both stopped for a moment to catch their breath. “Damn it…” John said, “We’re never gonna find her at this rate.”

“We’ve got to find her.” Sherlock told him, “No we need to find her before it’s too late.”

“What if we can’t?”

“Don’t say we can’t! We will find her!”

After catching his breath, Sherlock ran through the halls once more. John couldn’t help but roll his eyes and ran after him. They had gone up the stairs, they continued to shout out her name as they ran.

“Damn it! She’s not here either!” Sherlock said, “Let’s check upstairs!”

John nodded his head and sprinted up the stairs and started to search the rooms on that floor. Eventually they got to a door that had double doors. “This is the last room we haven’t checked yet.” Sherlock said.

John went in first but was shocked to the first thing he saw when he entered the room; Sherlock had the same expression on his face as well. They did manage to find Violet, but saw that instead of her and the culprit being in the same room, they saw her and him on in the opposite building.

“ **VIOLET!!** ” They both shouted, but she didn’t seem to hear them

There eyes widened in horror when they saw her holding what appeared to be a pill. “That’s it!” Sherlock said to John, “That’s the same poison the other victims took!”

“My God, she’s not planning on swallowing it is she?!” John exclaimed.

“We need to stop her! We need to stop her somehow!”

“I know but how are we going--!”

John then realized something, “Wait, my gun!” John exclaimed; He took the gun he had been carrying the whole time from his pocket.

“That’s perfect!” Sherlock said to him, “Can you fire it from here!?”

“Let’s find out!” He said to him. John quickly got the window open and armed his gun.

John made sure that he was aiming for the Cabbie Driver and not Violet. He took a deep breath in and out and concentrated. He than pulled the trigger just when he saw Violet about to take the pill. The bullet went through the open window and through the opposite building.

Violet jumped at the sound and the Cabbie Driver fell on his back. John put his gun down back in his pocket; They heard the sound of sirens in the distance.

“John! Let’s go!” Sherlock said, not at all phased by what had just happened.

John nodded and put away his gun; they both quickly ran out the door before Violet saw them.

* * *

 

- ** _Present_** -

By the time Violet had regained conscious, Lestrade's men came rushing into the room and went to make sure that she was alright. They brought her outside where an ambulance was already waiting with several other police cars.

After a few minutes, Violet had managed to calm down and she found herself sitting in one of the ambulances. One of the paramedics gave her a blanket for the third time. Lestrade walked over to her.

“Why do they keep giving this one this blanket?” Violet asked him.

“It’s for shock.” Lestrade replied.

“But Violet isn’t in shock.”

“Just let them take their pictures, while you’re wearing it.”

Violet rolled her eyes and let out a sigh. “The shooter got away?” Violet asked.

“He was already gone by the time we arrived.” Lestrade replied, “I’m sure that serial killer had many enemies but… They’re no clues.”

“This one wouldn’t be so sure.” Violet said. Lestrade looked at her questioningly, but after a few seconds he understood. “Okay, enlighten me.” He said taking out a small note book.

Violet nodded and started to explain.

“The bullet was fired from a pistol. To kill a man with a pistol from that distance, the gunner has to be an expert. If his hands had been shaking he wouldn’t have been able to make such a direct hit. The gunner is composed, used to fighting. He didn’t shoot until the very last minute. He’s a person with a strong sense or morals. In short Lestrade is looking for an army man, with… Nerves of steel…”

Violet’s words started to trail off; She saw John standing just beyond the do not cross tape and her brother pretty much an argument to the officers about her.  

“ ** _Brother? John?_** ” Violet thought in her head, “ ** _What are they doing here?_** ”

John noticed that she was looking him and turned away so that other officers wouldn’t notice. Her eyes widened in realization the moment she saw the look in John’s eyes.

“John… He didn’t…”

She put two and two together and said to Lestrade, “On second thought, just ignore Violet. Forget everything she said.”

Lestrade did a double take, “What?”

“Just ignore everything that this one had said.” She said as she got up, “She’s just speaking nonsense. Most likely it’s the shock.”

“Wait, where are you going?”

“Sherlock is probably worried sick about this one. He needs to know that Violet is okay.”

“Hang on, I still have some questions for you.”

“This one does have a blanket, and all she is doing is speaking nonsense, after what had just happened.”

“Violet!”

“And she caught a serial killer. Well, not really catch but you know what this one means.”

All Lestrade did was give out sigh and said, “Fine, we’ll talk tomorrow. Off you go.”

Violet smile and nodded. She walked over to where Sherlock and John was still having the blanket around her to keep herself from the cold, but that didn’t stop her from coughing due to the cold winds that blew. She walked under the tap, and was taken by surprise when Sherlock had suddenly pulled her in for a hug, but ultimately she hugged him back.

He broke up the hug and asked, “Why do you have that blanket?”

“They said it was for shock.” Violet replied.

“You’re not in shock are you?” Sherlock asked her, concerned for her.

Violet shook her head, “This one is alright.” She said before coughing.

“Why do you still have it than?”

“Violet is cold. She left her jacket back at the flat.”

“Good God… Sometimes you can be an idiot.”

He took the blanket off from her shoulders and she immediately shivered and coughed. He crumbled up the blanket and threw it in a police car nearby. He removed his own coat and put it on her; Her face turned slightly red out of embarrassment.

“This one thanks Sherlock.” Violet said, “Won’t he be cold though?”

“I’ll be fine.” Sherlock said before taking an inhaler out from his pocket, “You forgot to take this when we got back to the flat, so you might as well take it now.”

Violet nodded her head and took the inhaler from Sherlock. After she gave it a good shake she took a single puff. She exhaled after holding breath for a few seconds. She rolled up the sleeves and turned to John.

“I heard about it from Donovan.” John said, “Making you choose from two bottles. That’s cruel… Horrible.”

Violet gave him a smile, “John has excellent aim. This one is amazed.” She said quietly.

“... Yeah, and through a window. That’s great.” John said.

“It was brilliant.” She said.

“You might want to get rid of the powder burns in your fingers.” Sherlock told him, “I don’t suppose you’ll serve time for this, but let's just avoid the court case.” John looked around nervously, coughing as he did.

Violet tilted her head, “Is John okay?” She asked, feeling concerned.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” He replied, giving the young teen a reassured smile.

“Is he sure?” She asked, “John did just kill a man.”

“Shouldn’t I be asking if you’re okay? I mean you did just see a man die in front of you.”

Violet looked down at her feet, but answered hesitantly, “This one… Will be alright…”

Sherlock knew she was lying to John about that; but for now, he decided not to say anything, at least for now.

“But, he wasn’t a good man.” John said.

Violet and Sherlock couldn’t help nod their heads in agreement, “Not to mention he was a horrible driver.” John added.

This time the two Holmes siblings chuckled a bit. “That’s true.” Sherlock said, “The route he chose to get Violet here was unacceptable.”

John laughed out loud, and Violet couldn’t help but do the same. “Stop it, stop!” John said through his laughter, “We can’t giggle it’s a crime scene!”

“You’re the one that shot someone.” Sherlock said, “Don’t blame me.”

“And John is the one that’s giggling.” Violet said.

John said, “Stop it, you’re both loud.” They walked passed Donovan who had listened to them giggling. “Sorry, it’s the nerves I think.” John quickly said.

“Sorry.” Sherlock said.

Violet didn’t even bother turning to her. Donovan walked away from them and John cleared his throat. He had then asked Violet, “You were going to take the pill, weren’t you?”

Violet turned to him and replied, “This one wasn’t going to. She knew you two were coming so she was just buying time.” Sherlock gave her a quizzical look which she noticed; she knew what he was thinking, “This one already told brother, she’s fine.” Violet reassured him, “Sherlock doesn’t have to worry.”

John shook his head at the fact that she basically said she wasn’t going to take the pill. “Liar.” He said to her, “You and him just can’t go without proving your intelligence.”

Sherlock and Violet couldn’t help but look at each other; both of them being confused. They turned back to him, “Why would you say that?” Sherlock asked him.

John had simply stated, “Because your both idiots.”

All Violet did was smile, and Sherlock couldn’t help but chuckle, since he understood both him and his sister.

“Dinner?” Sherlock asked.

“Starving.” John replied. They both turned to Violet.

All Violet said was, “This one will eat if Sherlock does. And she won’t take laxatives later.”

“Well the case is over.” Sherlock said, “So I don’t see why not.”

The three of them started to walk away from the crime scene. “There’s a Chinese Restaurant that stays open till 2AM.” Sherlock said, holding Violet’s hand, “You can deduce a lot about the food’s quality by looking at the bottom third of the door handle--”

“Sherlock.” John said cutting him off.

He saw the familiar Stranger John had met earlier, getting out of the car that was parked some distance away from the crime scene.

“That’s him.” John told him, “That’s the guy I was telling you and Violet about.”

Sherlock saw the man, “...Him. I know very well.” He said.

Violet let out a smile, and let go of Sherlock’s hand and ran over to the Stranger. She gave him a big hug, and John was surprised to see that the Stranger returned the hug. Violet broke out of the hug when Sherlock approached him.

“Another case brilliantly solved?” The Stranger said to Sherlock, “Motivation aside, you’re being very useful to the public.”

“What are you doing here?” Sherlock asked him.

“I’m worried about you of course.” The Stranger replied, “Violet especially, seeing as your unfit to be taking care of her.”

“So I’ve heard. And for your information, I’ve been taking care of her just fine.”

“I honestly have my doubts, after what’s happened tonight. As always your such a difficult fellow, hasn’t it occurred to you that we’re on the same side?”

“First of all, Violet is still alive and breathing as she always has. Second, I would have to say, surprisingly no.”

“... We have a lot in common. The feud between us is childish. It just hurts the people around us, Violet has proved this. Besides… You know how it always upsets mummy.”

John had pretty much stood there dumbfounded when he heard the Stranger say the word, “Mummy”.

“I upset her?” Sherlock asked him, “It’s not me that upsets her!”

"Mycroft and Sherlock shouldn’t be arguing.” Violet said trying to get between them.

“It’s not an argument.”

“Yes it is.”

John pretty much stopped them all together. “Wait a minute!” He said, getting each of their attention, “Mummy? Who’s mummy?”

“Mother, our mother.” Sherlock replied before giving the Stranger his introduction, “John, this is our brother Mycroft.”

John was even more dumbfounded by this; he turned to Violet in disbelief. “It’s true.” Violet said to him, “John might not believe this, but Violet is considered the stupid one.”

At this point, his jaw dropped.

“Did you gain weight again?” Sherlock asked his brother named Mycroft.

“Lost it actually.” Mycroft replied

John couldn’t help but exclaim, “ **BROTHER!?** ”

“Yes, brother.” Sherlock said to him.

“I was sure he was…”

“Was what?”

“The Boss of some organization.”

Violet couldn’t help but laugh out loud when John had said that.

“... He is.” Sherlock said.

“Oh please.” Mycroft said, “I have a minor position in the British Government.”

“He is the British Government.” Sherlock clarified, “He’s also involved in the MIG and the CIA.”

Sherlock turned away from Mycroft, “Well then, Mycroft. Don’t start a war until I get home. The streets will get crowded.” With that he walked away. Violet said her goodbye to Mycroft and went to go join Sherlock, taking his hand.

John turned to Mycroft, “So when you said you worry about them, do you really?” He couldn’t help but ask.

“Yes, of course.” Mycroft replied.

“So this is just a quarrel between brothers?”

“My brother is resentful towards me, and Violet, she knows how to make Sherlock and I go insane with worry when it comes to her health. You can just imagine the Christmas dinners.”

“I can imagine. Wait no, actually--”

John noticed Anthea still on her phone. “Hello again.” He said getting her attention.

Anthea looked up and smiled, “Hello.”

“Don’t you remember? We met earlier this evening.” John said.

Anthea gave him a look like she’s never met him before but gave a fake reaction as if she had just remembered him. “Oh!” Was all she said.

John just gave her an awkward look to her and he just said, “Okay then… Good night.” He said before catching up with Sherlock and Violet.

“Good night Doctor Watson.” Mycroft said as John walked away.

He was soon walking beside him and Violet. “So, Chinese food.” John said.

“Mmm! I can always predict the fortune cookies.” Sherlock said.

“No you can’t.”

“Almost can. You did get shot.”

“Sorry?”

“In Afghanistan. There was an actual wound.”

“This one is betting that it wasn’t in the leg.” Violet said.

John asked her, “What makes you say that?”

“Violet and Sherlock find it obvious.” She replied.

John said to the two, “Oh, yeah. Shoulder.”

Sherlock said, “Shoulder! Thought so!”

“No you didn’t.”

“The left one.”

“Lucky guess.”

“I never guess.”

“Yes you do.”

Violet couldn’t help but think about the name that the Cabbie Driver had shouted, before he died. The name Moriarty; It made her nervous just thinking about it. She wanted to ask both him and John to see if they heard the name before. “Sherlock, John, can Violet ask a question?” Violet said.

“What is it?” John asked.

“The name, Moriarty…” Violet said, “Does the name sound familiar to either Sherlock or John?”

“Why do you ask?” Sherlock asked her.

“The Driver mentioned it to Violet.” She said, “He said to her that he was his sponsor when the Driver was killing. He also mentioned that he was this one and Sherlock’s fan. It’s kind of bugging Violet actually.”

“Is that all he told you?” Sherlock asked her.

All Violet did was nod her head in response to his question. “Moriarty…”

“Do you know who he is?” John asked

“Nope, I have no idea.” Sherlock replied.

Mycroft from a distance watched as they walked away. “Shall we get going sir?” Anthea asked him.

“Interesting.” Mycroft said, “That soldier fellow.”

Anthea looked at them for only a minute before going back to texting on her phone.

“He could be the making of my siblings.” Mycroft said, “Or make them worse than ever. Either we’d better upgrade their surveillance status. Grade three active.”

“Sorry, sir, whose status?” Anthea asked.

Mycroft had replied, “Sherlock Holmes, Violet Holmes, and John Watson.”

* * *

 

- ** _Two Days Later; 221B Baker Street_** -

John was unpacking the last of the boxes that he had gotten from his previous flat. Violet was helping out, by organizing the books that John had; all the while Sherlock was doing an experiment. Violet had just finished up organizing the books; She stretched her arms, “John and Violet are all done now.”  She said before turning to Sherlock, “Brother could’ve at least helped out a bit.”

“You two seemed to have handled it just fine.” Sherlock said to them

“I agree with Violet. You could’ve have at least contributed a little.” John told him. At that point Sherlock had just ignored them.

“This one is thirsty.” Violet said going to the fridge. John was curious to see what was in the fridge so he went with her. The minute Violet opened the fridge John immediately felt like throwing up when he saw the dismembered fingers and toes and other things he couldn’t exactly describe. Violet wasn’t at all surprised by it when she looked around the fridge.

“Did brother drink the last milk carton again?” Violet asked, turning to him.

“What? I needed something to go with my coffee.” Sherlock stated before looking through his microscope.

Violet let out a sigh, “This one is going to have to do some shopping.” She said shutting the fridge, “Sherlock and Violet needed something for lunch anyway.”

“If you’re buying what we’re having for lunch than you have to eat.”

“Okay. Okay.”

Violet got her coat, wallet and bag. “Violet will be back.”

Sherlock called out to her, “Don’t go talking to strangers.”

“This one won’t.” Violet said back to him.

And thus she went ahead to exit the flat. John had finally gotten over his shock seeing the dismembered parts in fridge. “She’s not at all traumatized by what was in their just now?”

“She’s learned to live with it.” Sherlock said not turning his gaze away from the microscope, “Don’t worry you’ll get used to it.”

John cleared his throat and sat down just across from Sherlock. He had finally looked up at John and saw the look in his eyes. “You have questions, about Violet?”

“Yeah.” John said, “What’s wrong with her exactly? Has she always been like this?”

“No.” Sherlock said, “She wasn’t always like this, at least when her parents were alive.”

John gave a quizzical expression, “When her parents alive? But Lestrade said they were--”

“Missing?” Sherlock finished for him, “Of course he’d tell you that. Let me start from the beginning.”

Sherlock started to tell Violet’s story.

“I’m sure Lestrade mentioned that Violet had a tutor, that was friends with my parents; He told them about her life. Back then, Violet was just a normal girl, cheerful as any child could be. Her mother was a singer that traveled the world and her father invented toys for a living so she was living a good life. One day things took a turn for the worst for her. Both of her parents were stabbed to death several times in her home; Violet unfortunately saw the whole thing and saw the life leave them when she was five. Her tutor said he found her up on a hill with a single tree where she and her parents had picnics; covered in her their blood.”

“Does she know who killed them?” John asked.

Sherlock got from his seat and motioned John to follow; Of course he followed.

They got to Violet’s room and Sherlock retrieved a sketch book under her bed and showed it to John. John went through the pages and saw drawings of different men; every single one of them had an giant X on them.

“She’s been trying to remember the face of the killer for a long time, but so far, she’s had no such luck.” Sherlock told him, “Apparently she’s been trying to keep this hidden from me.”  He said.

“All this time, she’s been trying to remember?” John said handing the sketchbook back to him, “Why?”

“I’ve been trying to find out for the longest time.” Sherlock said, placing the sketch book back under the bed, before continuing with Violet’s story as they exited her room and head back into the living room.

“Anyway, her tutor told my mother and father what happened, and they didn’t have second thoughts about taking her in. She came to us when Mycroft and I were starting high school, around the same time I was starting to do drugs. At first Violet didn’t say anything; She was just silent and barely talked to anyone. All she did really was just sit in the corner staring into nothing; She kept that routine for about a month. When she caught me sticking a needle in arm, that’s when she stepped in and stopped me. She actually started talking to me, saying that I was making everyone worry, and she didn’t want to see anyone else die. Even though she had no idea what a drug was, she just knew it was bad; Hell, she in a way convinced me to go to rehab. After I had gotten back from rehab, she started to hang out either me or Mycroft. She was curious to what we do in our spare time and eventually she started to grow on me, despite how annoying it got the first few times.”

“Annoying?” John couldn’t help but ask.

“Trust me it did, but I just didn’t want to admit it.” Sherlock said.

“So then…” John said, “I noticed she has a mental disorder.”

“She has four actually.” Sherlock replied, “One being bulimia nervosa, the other being panic disorder and the third being agoraphobia. Despite the fact she has the panic disorder and agoraphobia, her worst and fourth disorder she has is schizophrenia.”

“Schizophrenia?” John said in disbelief.

Sherlock started to explain.

“We knew about about the panic disorder, agoraphobia and bulimia, even the fact that she has asthma from the hospital record since it was genetic, we didn’t count on her having schizophrenia though. It happened one night when my mother and father were out for the weekend; Mycroft and I were taking care of Violet. She started acting strange though; when Mycroft and I tried to approach her, she panicked, started to shout things that didn’t make sense. She was having an episode; seeing things that we couldn't. We managed to get her back to reality before she did anything crazy. When we took her to the hospital that’s when we found out about it; The doctors told us that it was possible it came to her when she witnessed her parents death.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a lot on your hands.” John couldn’t help but say.

“You have no idea.” Sherlock told him, “Sure, she hasn’t had an episode for a couple years, but she can be handful.”  

John stated, “You make her sound like she’s a child.”

Sherlock replied, “Well she is one, despite her IQ level.”

“What about her education?”

“She was homeschooled for a few years then out of the blue she said she wanted to go to this school here in London, which had students stay on campus. But because of the schizophrenia, she was deemed unfit to stay on campus grounds with someone she didn’t know very well. I volunteered to look after her, since I was already making plans to live here anyway. Because of my reputation she didn’t have a lot of friends at school, so she was always made fun of.”

“She didn’t have any friends at all?”

“Well, she did make one friend but after Violet graduated he went to study abroad.”

“Ah, I see.”

Sherlock went to the kitchen to get himself a drink as John continued with his questions. “She mentioned that she did drugs for awhile. How did she come to that?”

“That happened two months ago. It was a some time after she was almost made into a doll by her boyfriend Parker Williams.” Sherlock said, his anger built up a little at the mentioning of the name, “She was going through a depression stage at the time. The first week when she started, taking drugs I didn’t know about it. The weeks that followed I found out when I saw used needles in the trash bin. We got into an argument about it when I tried to convince her to stop, that she was endangering her health but ultimately she ended up running away. I spent the next set of weeks trying to find her, using every available resource I could to get to her; I even got Lestrade and his men to help me look for her. In the end Molly found her, near where she worked. Violet had almost died from a drug overdose but Molly got to her in time. She texted me, told me to meet her at St. Barts to pick up Violet; When I did, not only did I find out about her almost dying, but she had gotten into a fight.”

“A fight?” John asked with his anger building up a bit since the cause of Violet doing this was cause of Parker Williams despite knowing her for a short while.

“Violet was in debt since she went to buy drugs.” Sherlock said, “And because she didn’t have the money that they needed, she was beaten because of it. The people responsible for putting Violet in such a state were trialed, but they only had enough evidence to put a restraining order on them. I didn’t trust, and neither did Mycroft when he found out about what Violet did. He had them deported.”

“Where did he deport them to?”

“Dhaka, Bangladesh *****.”

( ** _*According to the telgraph.co.uk website it was labeled as number one on the most dangerous places in the world._** )

John’s jaw dropped at that; Seeing how both him and Mycroft were protective when it came to Violet’s safety.

“So then…” John said, “How come she talks in third person? Is that part of her disorder?”

“That’s a habit she has.” Sherlock replied, “When she was little, she always talked to her parents like that when they were alive, and she never seemed to get rid of it. I was trying to get her out of it but it sort of grew on me.”

John thought about what Violet’s story, that Sherlock had told him. Honestly he couldn’t help but chuckle. Sherlock looked at him with a confused look. “What?” Sherlock asked him.

“Nothing.” John said, “It’s just that… I didn’t think that you would be the protective brother. You must really love Violet.”

Sherlock turned slightly red out of embarrassment, “Shut up!” He said, turning away from him. All John did was let out a smile at Sherlock's reaction. He got up from his seat and got his coat. “Where are you going?” Sherlock asked him.

“I’m just going for a walk.” John said, “I need some air, after all that unpacking. Won’t be long.” With that John left the flat, leaving Sherlock alone; Or so he thought. It wasn’t long till he heard the sound of sniffles; Of course he knew all to well who that belonged to. He went just outside of the living to find Violet sitting in fettels position with a bag that had but a single carton of milk and a couple of microwave lunches.

She picked up her head revealing that her eyes were bloodshot red, and her cheeks were puffy. Violet immediately got up and just hugged Sherlock; He returned it, shushing her as he brushed her raven hair.

Soon enough they were both sitting in the living after Violet had stopped her crying. She sat on the couch with Sherlock beside her. She had her head on his shoulder. For awhile there was nothing but silence, but Sherlock finally broke it when he asked, “How long have you been listening?”

“This one has been listening when Sherlock told John, about her disorders.” Violet replied with her voice a bit cracked from crying, “Was Sherlock telling the truth to John? Did he really ask Lestrade to look for her when she was lost?”

“I did.” Sherlock replied, before kissing the top of Violet’s head.

“This one is sorry.”

“For what?”

“For always causing trouble for Sherlock. She doesn’t mean to, but she always does.”

“Idiot. You don’t always cause trouble. Even when you do, I don’t mind it one bit.”

Violet couldn’t help but slightly laugh at that, “This one always seems to forget that Sherlock never does mind.”

Sherlock had asked her, “Do you like having John around?”

Violet smiled and nodded her head, “John is a good man. Like brother is.”

Sherlock didn’t say anything to the good man comment. Violet didn’t notice it and said, “It’s nice to have company.”

“I’ll admit to that.” He said before asking, “Are you okay though; for me telling him about your parents?”

Violet nodded again, “This one wasn’t going to tell him about it. She was going to stick with Lestrade's story about them missing. Violet is glad that you told him about it.”

“Since he is going to stay here, than I might as well have told him about it now and gotten over with.” He said.

Violet’s stomach let out a loud growl and she couldn’t help but blush out of embarrassment. She removed her head from Sherlock’s shoulder and but her arms over her stomach. “You haven’t eaten since this morning haven’t you?” Sherlock asked her.

Violet immediately replied, “This one wasn’t hungry.”

Sherlock got up from the couch and went to take out the microwave lunches in the bag. “Come on then. You did tell me that you were eating when you bought these.”

“Does she really have to though?” Violet asked.

“Yes you do.” Sherlock said, “Now come on then, let’s pop them in the microwave.”

Violet smiled again; she got up off the couch and went to join him in the kitchen.

 


	10. A Trip to the Bank

- ** _National Antiques Museum; London_** -

A young chinese woman was showing students an artifact in particular that was out of it’s casing. She appeared to be making tea into that were made from clay. As she made the tea she explained to the students, “According to the great pottery masters, this small teapot becomes more and more beautiful the more it’s being used. Each time the tea swirls the pot, its color deepens.”

She poured the tea into one pot, overfilling it on purpose; With delicate hands she soaked the entire kettle and other cups made of clay in the tea.

“The tea’s ingredients remain on the surface and creates the this beautiful color and shine.” She explained to the students, "Inside we have teapots which have been used for over 400 years.”

It seemed like seconds as the afternoon quickly turned to evening, as the young woman placed everything back where it was. A young man had soon approached her; he said, “Tea from 400 year old pots?”

“Tea utensils aren’t meant for decoration.” She said to him, “They have to be touched. By human hands, we have to be careful, there are cracks forming.”

“Does pouring tea, make much of a difference?”

“You cannot understand the value of something important, just by looking at it.”

She picked up a pot and showed him. “See?” She said holding up the pot to him, “Doesn’t this one shine a little more?”

The young man rubbed the back of his neck, wondering how she would react to the next question he was about to ask her. “Listen, I was wondering, would you mind going out for a drink with me?”

The woman turned to him questioningly. He had said, “Not tea obviously. I was thinking the pub maybe for a pint? Tonight?”

“It would be boring with me.”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

The woman thought about it, only for a moment before saying. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. Please. Don’t ask me again.”

A little while later she had gone to the Museum's basement to putting everything into place. It wasn’t long before she heard the sound of footsteps which startled her a bit.

“Hello?” She said, “Is that security?”

No reply came, which made her anxiety rise a bit. Curious she went over to investigate. When she did, she saw that there was something out of place. She saw that there was a sudden breeze brushing up against a cloth.

 She went over to it and removed the cloth and her eyes had widened in horror by what she saw.

* * *

 - ** _Local Supermarket_** -

John was at one of the self check-out stands trying to exit the store with the groceries he had, but he was having great difficulty.

“Please don’t place anything but shopping goods on the counter. Please repeat.”

“You gotta be kidding me.” John mumbled.

* * *

 - ** _221B Baker Street_** -

Violet ( ** _Who was wearing a long black skirt, and long sleeved grey shirt with a black cross_** ) sat on her bean bag chair drinking her glass of warm milk, while she watched Sherlock duke it out with a swordsman. He fell over on the couch, and the swordsman was about to take a swing, but Sherlock managed to kick him off. He got up and fixed his jacket.

“Does brother need help?” Violet asked him, after she took a sip from her cup, giving her a milk mustache.

“No!” Sherlock said, “Brother is okay!”

He charged at the swordsman again.

* * *

 - ** _Meanwhile_** -

John went to scan the groceries only to hear the machine say to him, “Scanning failed. Please repeat.”

He got ticked off at that.

“Maybe you could keep your voice down?”

* * *

 - ** _At that Moment_** -

Sherlock had gotten pinned to a table, the sword at the neck, Violet was now playing a game on her phone. She looked over and saw him struggling.

“Does brother need help now?” She asked him.

He simply shouted, “ **NO!** ” And he kneed the swordsman in the stomach and pushed him off; scratching the table in the process.

* * *

 - ** _Back at the Store_** -

John had finally managed to get the items in the bag, but there was yet again another problem.

“This card is not accepted.” The computer said, “Please choose a different payment method.”

“ **YES! ALRIGHT! I GOT IT! SHUT UP!** ” John couldn’t help but shout, earning a look from the man behind him. He walked away leaving behind his groceries and even his credit card. “Just keep it!” John said, “You know what? Keep that.”

* * *

 - ** _Back at 221B_** -

Sherlock ducked as the swordsman swung his sword. “ **LOOK!** ” He shouted as he pointed; the swordsman turned. He punched him clear across the face knocking him out; he fell back on the chair. Violet pressed a button on a stopwatch. “20 minutes.” She said looking at the time on the watch, “Brother’s getting slow.”

“At least I knocked him out.” Sherlock told her.

Violet grunted at that. “This one can’t believe he fell for the oldest trick in the book.” She commented, “He really was stupid.”

“Which is why he fell for it.” Sherlock said.

“Can Violet keep the sword at least?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Do we really need to talk about what happened at New Year’s again?”

Violet couldn’t help but scoff, “Sherlock and Mycroft never let’s Violet have anything nice.”

“It’s you’re own fault.” Sherlock simply stated.

A little while later John came back from the store, and he found Violet sketching while Sherlock read his book. They both noticed that he was back.

“You took your time.” Sherlock said, not taking eyes off the book.

“Yeah, but I didn’t get anything.” John said.

Sherlock and Violet were both taken back by this. “What, why not?” Sherlock asked him.

John had stated, “Because I had a row in the shop with the self-checkout machine.”

Violet raised her eyebrow at this. “John had a row with a machine?” Violet asked, “This one has a hard time believing that.”

“Well, to be fair, it sat there and I shouted abuse.” John said before asking Sherlock, “Do you have any cash?”

“Take my card.” Sherlock said gesturing over to the kitchen table.

John walked over to the table before turning back to Sherlock and Violet. “You know one of you can always go yourself!” John said, “Neither of you haven’t even moved since I left!”

Sherlock chose not to answer and Violet couldn’t help but giggle. John didn’t know why she giggled but shook it off. He took Sherlock's wallet and looked through it, “What happened with the case, the Jaria Diamond?”

While John’s back was turned, Violet pointed out that the sword was in plain view; Sherlock took notice of it.

“Not interested.” Sherlock said, turning a page, and pushing the sword further under the chair, “So I refused.”

John found the credit card in Sherlock’s wallet, while at the same time finding a cut on the table; it appeared to be recent from what John could tell. He looked over to Sherlock and he gave an innocent smile; he turned to Violet and all she did was shrug.

A while later he came back with groceries in hand. Violet was now making a picture out of charcoal, while Sherlock was by a computer looking through various e-mails.

“Don’t worry about me I can manage.” John said as he bought the groceries into the kitchen.

In one of the e-mails that Sherlock read, it had said, “There’s been an incident at the bank, we hope you and your sister can sort it out.” Sherlock got Violet’s attention and she went over to him, to look at the e-mail. John noticed what Sherlock had right in front of him.

“Is that my computer?” John asked him.

Sherlock had replied as he started to type, “Yes, of course it is.”

“Why do you have it!?”

“Mine was in the bedroom.”

“What, you couldn’t bother getting it yourself!?”

He had gotten no reply from Sherlock. “Wait a minute, it’s password protected.” John staed.

“In a manner of speaking.” Sherlock told him, “Took me less than a minute to figure out yours; it’s not exactly Fort Knox.”

“Right thank you.” John said, going over to Sherlock and slamming his computer lid down; Sherlock pulled his fingers away so that they wouldn’t get crushed. “At least I know Violet wouldn’t go into my computer.” He said.

Violet said while not making eye contact, “Yeah… **_This one wouldn’t…_** ”

John sat down on his armchair, and looked over at a small pile of letters beside him. One of the letters had a red bill which required an urgent pay. “I need to get a job.” John said out of the blue.

“Dull.” Sherlock and Violet said in unison.

John had gotten lost in thought; he looked over to Sherlock for a moment than giving a quick glance at the papers he had in his hands. “Listen, um… If you’re able to lend me some…” He stopped in the middle of his sentence when he noticed Sherlock was lost in his own thoughts. “Sherlock are you listening?” John asked him.

“I need to go to the bank.” He suddenly said. He got up and headed down the stairs, grabbing his coat. His younger sister followed behind him, grabbing her things and John as well grabbing his jacket.

* * *

 - _ **Tower 42, Old Broad Street**_ -

The three of them entered the building through the revolving glass doors; John was in awe just how large and fancy it looked.

“So…” John said, “When you said bank…”

They had gone up the escalator, all the while they were on it,  the Holmes siblings were observing everything around. They seemed to very fond of the security gates as well as the electronic readers to go through. They approached the receptionist desk and all the detective said to the lady behind the desk, “Sherlock Holmes.”

They soon found themselves in the office of someone who knew the two very well. “Sherlock and Violet Holmes!” The man said as he proceeded to shake their hands.

“Sebastian.” Sherlock greeted.

“This one says hello.” Violet said, taking his hand and shaking it.

Sebastian patted Violet on the head, “Look at you, you’ve gotten a bit taller from the last time I saw you.” He said, turning to Sherlock, “It’s been ages. Like what, eight years?”

“This is Sherlock and Violet’s friend, John Watson.” Violet said introducing him.

Sebastian held out his hand and John shook his hand. Sebastian looked at Sherlock questioningly, “A friend?”

“Colleague.” John said, “She meant to say colleague.”

They all sat down just across from Sebastian's desk. “So you’ve been doing well.” Sherlock said, “You’ve been abroad a lot.”

“Well so?” Sebastian said.

Violet had added, “Sebastian has been flying around the world twice in a month.”

Sebastian had scoffed, “Right, your doing the that thing.” He had then explained to John, “Sherlock and I were in uny together, met his little sister later down the line, and these two here had a trick that they used to do.”

“It’s not a trick.” Sherlock stated.

Sebastian continued, “These two can look at you, and tell you a whole life story.”

“Yes, I’ve seen them do it.” John said.

“Put the wind up everybody we hated them both.” Sebastian said, “We’d come down to breakfast formal hall and these two freaks would know you’d be shagging the previous night.”

“This one and Sherlock had simply observed.” Violet said to him.

“Go on, enlighten me.” Sebastian said, “Two trips a month flying all the way around way? You’re quite right. How could you tell? Is there a stain on my tie from a special kind of ketchup you can only by in Manhattan?”

“Well no we were--” Sherlock tried to say before getting off.

“Maybe it’s the mud on my shoes?” Sebastian asked them.

Sherlock then finished his sentence, “We were just chatting with your secretary outside. She told us.”

John looked at Sherlock questioningly, while Sebastian laughed. Violet rolled her eyes and turned and avoided looking at him in the eye, while Sherlock smirked. “But in all seriousness I’m glad you both could make it over.” Sebastian said, “We’ve had a break-in.”

The four of them were now walking towards of an office that belonged to one of the people working in the bank. Sebastian had explained to them what had happened.

“Sir William’s office, the bank's former chairmen. The room’s been left here like a sort of memorial.” Sebastian said, “Someone broke in late last night.”

“What did they steal?” John asked.

“Nothing.” Sebastian replied, “Just left a little message.”

They entered the office of Sir William, and they all saw that there was symbols. There appeared to be two lines, and an eight under the line. It was written in yellow paint. Both Sherlock and Violet looked at it with eyes filled with curiosity.

Soon enough the four of them were in front of a computer that had security footage. “60 seconds apart.” Sebastian said. He was showing them that in one shot there was nothing there and in the next shot, the symbols were there. He had continued, “So someone came up here in the middle of the night, splashed paint around and left within a minute.”

“How many ways in that office?” Sherlock asked him.

“Well, this is where it get’s interesting.” He said.

They were over the receptionist desk, showing them a diagram of the security doors, “Every door that opens in this bank, it gets logged right here.” He explained, “Every walk-in cupboard, every toilet.”

“So that door didn’t open last night?” Violet asked.

“There’s a hole in our security.” Sebastian replied, “You two find it, and we’ll pay you, five figures.”

He took out a check from his jacket pocket, and handed it over to Sherlock, “This is in advance. Tell me how he got in, and there’s an even bigger one on its way.”

Violet was about to say something but Sherlock interrupted her, “Neither of us need an incentive, Sebastian.” He took Violet’s hand and they made their way back over to the office. “He’s just kidding obviously.” John said, “Shall I look after that for him?” Sebastian handed the check over to John, “Thanks.” He said and went ahead to look around.

Violet was taking pictures of the picture and wall with the symbols; tilting her head as she did. She looked over to where Sherlock was who was outside on the balcony. He was having a look down below and turned back to her, before joining her back inside.

The next thing anybody knew, Sherlock was moving around from column to column almost as if he was dancing; distracting everyone from there work. Violet followed behind him not necessarily doing the same thing he was doing. Eventually she stopped when Sherlock entered an office just behind him; he saw the symbols in view from the office; Violet went in and saw it in view as well.

Violet went over to the sign and it was written “Hong Kong Spokesman Edward Van Coon”.  She took the paper out and they both left the office.

Sherlock, John, and Violet were now heading there way to the exit of the bank. John had said to Sherlock, “So two trips around the world this month. Neither of you asked his secretary. You only said that just to irritate him.” Sherlock couldn’t help but smirk at that; Violet let out a small smile as well.

“Okay, how did you two know?” John asked.

“Didn’t you see his watch?” Sherlock asked him.

“His watch?” He said with confusion.

Violet had answered, “The time was right, but the date is wrong. Sebastian’s watch said two days ago. It crossed the dateline twice but Sebastian didn’t alter it.”

“Within a month? How did you get that part?” John asked.

“New Breitling.” Sherlock replied, “Only came out this February.”

 

John satisfied with that answer said to them, “Okay, so do you think we should sniff around this place a little longer?”

Sherlock had replied, “No we already got everything we need thanks.”

John was once again, confused; Sherlock had clarified it for him, “The graffiti was a message for someone for someone at the bank working trading floors. We intended recipient and…”

“...They’ll lead us back to the person who sent it.” John finished.

“Obvious.” The Detective said.

“But there has to be at least 300 people working up there.” John pointed out, “Who was it meant for?”

“Pillars.” Violet stated; confusing John again, she explained, “Pillars and screens. They’re very few places that one can see the graffiti from. That narrows it down the field considerably. Not to mention that the message was left at 11:34 last night. That tells a lot to Sherlock, Violet and John.”

“Does it?” He asked.

Sherlock had then said, “Traders come to work at all hours. Some trade to Hong Kong in the middle of the night. That message was intended for someone who came at midnight.”

Violet showed John the name which she had gotten from the office door earlier, “This one doesn’t think that they’re many Van Coon’s in the phone book.”

“ **TAXI!!** ” Sherlock called out loudly.

After a quick taxi ride, the three of them stood in front of an apartment complex; Sherlock was hitting the button labeled Van Coon. No one had seemed to answer. “So what do we do now?” John asked them, “Sit here and wait for him to come back?”

Sherlock looked above Van Coon’s name. Violet saw this too and thought the same thing that Sherlock was thinking. “Just moved in.” He said to John.

“What?” John said questioningly.  

“Sherlock means the floor above Van Coon’s name.” Violet said pointing to the name which had said Wintle.

“Could’ve just replaced it.” John suggested.

“Nobody does that.” Sherlock said. He pushed on the buzzer and placed his fingers between his lips to Violet, telling her to stay quiet; she nodded.

Soon enough they had gotten a response; it appeared to be a woman that answered.

“ _Hello?_ ” She said.

“Hi, I live in the flat just below you and I don’t think we’ve met.” Sherlock said to the woman using his “I’m a normal human being” voice.

“ _No, I just moved in._ ” She said to him.

Sherlock bit his lip and said, “Well, you see, my daughter forgot something and I locked my keys in my flat.”

John was a bit surprised to hear Sherlock say daughter. “ ** _So she plays the role as daughter whenever they do stuff like this?_** ” John thought before remembering how old she was exactly, “ ** _Then again, I could see why someone would think that she’s his daughter._** ”

“ _Oh, do you want me to buzz you in?_ ” Wintle asked.

“Yes.” Sherlock replied before asking, “And can we use your balcony?”

There was a pause. “ _What?_ ” Was all Wintle said.

It wasn’t until, Sherlock and Violet were at Ms. Wintle’s balcony. They looked below; luckily the balcony below them was full-width. Sherlock climbed over the balcony and went down first. He back out and held out his arms so that he would be prepared to catch Violet when she climbed over the balcony. Ultimately she slipped and fell over letting out a surprise squeak, but luckily her brother caught her and he was holding her bridal style.  She couldn’t help but turn red slightly since she was a bit embarrassed.

He put her down so that she was standing, and had gotten the door open; thankfully she was able to unlock it from the outside. The Holmes siblings entered the decorated living room and took a look around. They could tell just by looking at the living room Van Coon was indeed a wealthy, with the leather couch and chair as well as the minimal cutter. As they looked through, Sherlock noticed that there was a pile of books on the table; he couldn’t help but find that curious.

Violet went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. She saw that there was nothing more than bottles of champagne. A buzzing sound echoed throughout the flat.

“ _Sherlock! Violet!_ ” John called out, “ _Are you two alright?_ ”

Violet moved into the hallway, passing by the bathroom not really taking notice. She approached double doors but was quick to find that it was locked. “Brother!” Violet called out, “This one thinks she found Van Coon's room, but she can’t get it open!”

Sherlock came to her side, passing by the bathroom. He looked inside and saw a few items in particular that stood out to him.

“ _Yeah, anytime one of you feel like letting me in!_ ” John said.

Sherlock went to open the door, and found it was locked like Violet said. He moved Violet away from the door and shoulder charged it; the lock broke and the door opened. They walked inside the room and found a literal dead man laying flat on his back on his bed in his suit with a gun in his hand, and a bullet wound in his right side of the head.

 **  
** They of course realized that the man on laying dead on the bed was Van Coon.


	11. Murder or Suicide?

Policeman from the New Scotland Yard had arrived soon after Sherlock and Violet found the body, taking pictures and taking anything into evidence within the flat. While they were doing there job, Violet wearing latex gloves was looking around the room, while Sherlock (Also wearing latex gloves) and John examined the body.

John had asked Sherlock, “Do you think he lost his money? I mean suicide is pretty common among city boys.”

“We don’t know it was a suicide.” Sherlock said before going to Violet who was looking through his suitcase.

“Come on.” John said, “The door was locked from the inside; you and Violet had to climb down the balcony.”

Violet had then said, “Van Coon has been away for three days; from what this one can tell from the laundry anyway.”  Sherlock looked it over, “No, you’re right, three days.” He said to his sister. Sherlock turned to John, “Look at the case. There was something tightly packed inside it.”

“I’ll just take your word for it.” John said.

“Problem?”

“Yeah, I’m not desperate to root around some bloke’s dirty underwear.”

“Why?” Violet couldn’t help but ask, “It isn’t like Van Coon’s gonna mind it.”

“That’s not really the point.” John told her.

Sherlock walked over to the bed, to check over Van Coon’s body again; Violet went to join her brother. “Why was there a code left at the bank?” He asked the doctor. “Maybe it’s a code or something?” John suggested.

“Violet was thinking the same thing.” Violet said as she started to look through the man’s jacket pockets.

“Why were they painted?” Sherlock asked, “If you want to communicate, why not use e-mail?”

John had then suggested, “He ignored the e-mails?”

“So you get it?”

“Hmm… No.”

Violet asked, “Really? John doesn’t get it. This one find it simple.”

 

Sherlock went to check his hands as Violet check his shoes and pants pockets.

The consulting detective said, “What’s the message that nobody wants to get? For example the letters that you got this morning.”

“Bills?” John said with confusion.

Violet went to examine his mouth; she back up slightly when she felt something build up in her nose. Sherlock and John took notice when they heard Violet let out a sneeze. “Di… Did you just sneeze?” John asked her.

“Uh…” Violet said, “This one has allergies.”

“Don’t do that, you don’t have your allergy season this time around.” Sherlock said, “Are you alright?”

Violet ignored her brother’s question, looked closely at what was in Van Coon’s mouth; She saw something that shouldn’t even be there.

“Black flower.” She said, confusing her brother and John. She clarified, “Van Coon has a black flower made of paper.”

Sherlock took a look and realized what she meant. He removed a black origami flower allowing the air to hiss from his lungs. “Yes.” He said, “He was being threatened.” He pat Violet on the head, “Good work.” Violet’s face turned red slightly.

He placed the black origami flower in an evidence bag. It wasn’t long till they heard someone coming towards the room, saying to another policeman, “Yeah, make a copy of that. Did you get fingerprints off the glass? Well try somehow.”

A young sergeant had walked into the room; Sherlock and Violet could tell by the attire. Sherlock went over to greet him. “Ah, Sargent nice to meet you.” Sherlock said, “My name is--”

“Yeah, I know who you both are.” The man said, referring to Violet as well, “And I prefer if you didn’t tamper the crime scene without permission.”

Sherlock sighed and handed the plastic bag to him. Violet had said, “Sherlock phoned Lestrade. Is he on his way?”

“He’s busy.” The man said, “I’m in charge. And by the way, it’s Detective Inspector Dimmock.”

They walked into the living room and Dimmock handed off the black origami flower to an officer. “We’re obviously looking at a suicide.”

John couldn’t help but say, “Suicide does seem to be the only explanation of all the facts.”

“That’s wrong.” Sherlock said, “That’s only one of the possible explanations. You draw the conclusion that you like and ignore all the facts that don’t comply with it.”

“For example?” Dimmock asked.

“The kill shot is on Van Coon’s right side.” Violet said

“So?”

“Van Coon is left-handed.”

Dimmock double taked at that, “Left-handed?”

Violet nodded and said as she made it look like she was trying to shot herself with her left hand, “Requires a bit of contortion if Dimmock really thought about it.”

“I’m sorry but left-handed?” Dimmock couldn’t help but ask again.

Violet tilted her head to the side, “How did Dimmock pass his classes?”

Sherlock said with sarcasm, “I’m surprised that you didn’t notice. All you really had to do was look around this flat.”

He started to explain it thoroughly, “Coffee table on the left-handed side; coffee mug handle pointing to the left. Power sockets: habitually used the ones on the left. Pen and paper on the left handed side of the phone because he picked it up with his right and took messages with his left. Do you want me to go on?”

“No I think you’ve just about covered it.” John said.

“Why should brother stop there?” Violet asked, “He’s almost at the bottom of the list.”

Violet continued, “There’s a knife on the breadboard with butter on the right side in Van Coon’s kitchen. The blade is on the right side because Van Coon had used it with his left hand.”

 

Sherlock had finished it off, “Therefore it is unlikely that a left-handed man would shoot himself in the right side of the head. Conclusion: **_Someone broke in here and murdered him_**. Only explanation of all the facts.”

“But the gun?” Dimmock asked, “Why would--”

“Van Coon was waiting for his killer.” Violet said interrupting him, “Van Coon was being threatened.”

Dimmock was of course confused by this, “Threatened?” He said.

“Today at the bank he was working in.” John explained, “Some sort of a warning.”

“Van Coon fired a shot when his killer came in.” Violet said.

“If that’s the case then where did the bullet go?” Van Coon asked.

“Went through the open window.” Sherlock said, getting his coat, scarf and gloves on since he took it off earlier; Violet was doing the same.

Dimmock couldn’t help but say, “Oh come on! What are the chances of that?”

Sherlock replied, “Wait, until you get the ballistics report. The bullet in his brain wasn’t fired from his gun. I guarantee it.”

“But if his door was locked then how did the killer get in?” Dimmock asked him.

Violet had said, “That’s good. Dimmock is finally asking the right questions.” With that the trio left the flat to go tell of their client the bad news.

* * *

 

- ** _Later that Afternoon_** -

Sebastian was chatting amongst other businessmen. He was just finishing up a story, “He wanted us to cut his hair with a fork, which of course can never be done!” He said, he laughed along with the other businessmen. Sherlock, Violet and John entered the restaurant and approached Sebastian at the table.

“It was a threat, that’s what the graffiti meant.” Sherlock said, getting his attention.

Sebastian took a sip from his white wine and said, “I’m kind of in a middle of a meeting. Can you make an appointment with my secretary.”

Violet had said, “Violet is sorry, but this one doesn’t think it can wait.”

Sherlock had then explained, “One your traders, someone who worked in your office was killed.”

The other businessmen were of course shocked to hear this as was Sebastian, “What?” Was all he could say.

“Van Coon.” John said, “The police are at his flat.”

“Killed?” Sebastian said, trying to process the information.

“Sherlock, Violet and John are sorry to ruin everyone’s appetite.” Violet said before asking, “Does Sebastian still want to make an appointment? Maybe he can meet Sherlock, Violet, and John at Scotland Yard 9:00 tomorrow?” In the next second, Sherlock and John were in the men’s restroom with Sebastian while Violet of course waited outside.

Sebastian washed his hands as he said, “He was an Oxford Graduate, brilliant man. He spent most of his time in Asia.”

“You gave him Hong Kong accounts?” John asked him.

Sebastian took a towel to dry his hands, “He lost five million dollars in a single morning, made it back a week later. Nerves of steel Eddie had.”

“Who would want to kill him?”

“We all make enemies.”

“We don’t all end up with a bullet through your temple.”

“Not usually.”

Sebastian’s phone let out a ringtone. “Excuse me.” He said as he took it out from his pocket. He had read a message he had just received. “It’s my chairman.” Sebastian said, “Police have been on to him. Apparently they’re telling him it’s a suicide.”

“They’ve got it wrong Sebastian.” Sherlock said, “He was murdered.”

“Well I’m afraid they don’t see it like that.” Sebastian told him.

“So?”

“Neither does my boss. I hired you to do a job. Don’t get sidetracked.”

**  
  
**

With that Sebastian exited the restroom, leaving Sherlock and John the only ones in the restroom. John couldn’t help but say, “I thought all bankers were supposed to be heartless bastards.”

They took their leave from the restaurant and headed back to 221B.

* * *

 

- ** _Later that Night_** -

A journalist was literally sprinting down the street nearly getting hit by cars. He looked distressed, eyes filled with panic; occasionally he would look behind him, seeing if he was being followed. He didn’t stop running, he just ran as fast as his legs could carry him. He reached his flat and struggled to get the keys from his pocket. When he did he unlocked the door and entered his flat; he locked the door behind him.

He quickly ran up the stairs all the way up to the attic; he shut the door behind locking it. He threw a book he was carrying to the side as he ran up the stairs. Finally he stopped to catch his breath, thinking he was finally safe.

**_Or so he thought…_ **


	12. The Intruder Who Can Walk Through Walls

- ** _The Next Day; National Antiques Museum_** -

A young man, by the name of Andy was busy working on a vase, when his boss had approached him in his workspace holding an envelope. “I need you to get over to Crispins.” She said to him, showing what was in the envelope. Andy stopped working, to look at the pictures of the artifacts.

“Two ming vases up for auction.” She explained, “Chenghua. Will you appraise them?”

Andy looked over the papers twice or maybe three times, “Soo Lin should go, she’s the expert.”

His boss told him, “ ** _Soo Lin has resigned her job_**. I need you.”

Andy of course was shocked by this; Soo Lin, his co-worker, who was also obsessed with the clay teapots had suddenly resigned? He couldn’t believe it.

Later in the day he went over to Soo Lin’s flat that just next to the Lucky Cat store; he rang the doorbell several times, but there was no answer. Ultimately he took out a spare envelope in his pocket and wrote down a small note, and placed it in the mail slot; he took his leave once he was satisfied.

* * *

 

- ** _Local Clinic_** -

A young woman named Sarah read over the resume of John Watson; even looking at twice just to be sure she read it right. She sighed and looked over at him. “Just locum work?” She asked him just to be sure.

John replied, “No, that’s fine.”

“You’re um… I’ll be honest you’re a bit overqualified.” Sarah said.

“I could always do the with the money.” He said.

“Well, I’ve got two away on holiday this week and one’s just left to have a baby. Won’t it be boring for you?”

“No. Sometimes boring is just fine… It’s quiet.”

“... You were in the army, right?”

“I’m a military doctor.”

“Is there anything else you can do?”

“I learnt the clarinet at school.”

Sarah couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “Oh, well, I look forward to it.”

* * *

 

- ** _221B Baker Street_** -

Sherlock sat and stared at the photo’s that Violet took while they were at the bank. Many symbols went all through his head, but he couldn’t quite place it exactly. All the while he was doing this, Violet laid back on the couch, groaning a little and rubbed her head. Not only that but there were piles of tissues all around the garbage can.

John entered the flat, and when he did, he heard Sherlock say, “I said could you pass me a pen?” which had of course, surprised John a bit, as he threw his jacket on the armchair. “When did you ask that?” John asked him.

Sherlock replied, “About an hour ago.”

“Didn’t you notice that I was gone?” He asked him, handing him a pen.

“I went to see about that a job at the surgery.” John said.

Sherlock asked, “How was it?”

“It was great.” John said, “She was great.”

Both Sherlock and Violet gave a quizzical expression. “Who?” Sherlock asked.

“The job.”

“She?”

“It.”

Violet said to John, “But John said she. This one heard John say it.”

John turned to her about to say something, but noticed Violet in a state. “Hey, are you alright?” John asked concerned for her.

Violet nodded her head, looking drowsy, “Violet is alright. She’s just tired.”

Sherlock noticed it as well, but chose not to say anything. Sherlock motioned John over to his laptop, “Take a look at this.” John went over to the computer, and saw that there was a news blog. He aloud the headline, “The Intruder that can walk through walls”.

“It happened late last night.” Sherlock explained, “Journalist died, shot dead in his flat. Doors locked, windows bolted from the inside. Exactly the same as Van Coon.”

John soon realized something, “Oh God, do you think he--”

“He’s killed another one.” Sherlock finished.

* * *

 

- ** _New Scotland Yard_** -

The trio stood at the desk of Detective Inspector Dimmock. Sherlock showed the information on his laptop; the same news blog that he showed to John. “Brian Lukis.” He said, “Freelance journalist, murdered in his flat. Door locked from the inside.”

“You’ve gotta admit, it’s pretty similar.” John said to him, “Both men killed by someone, who can walk through solid walls.”

Sherlock said, “Do you seriously believe that Eddie Van Coon was just another suicide Inspector?”

Dimmock didn’t say anything to that. Violet had asked, “Dimmock got the ballistics reports back?”

He nodded his head.

“Was it fired from Van Coon’s gun?”

“No.”

“This investigation would’ve gone a lot faster if Dimmock would’ve taken this one and Sherlock’s word as gospel.”

All Dimmock did was sigh in defeat. Sherlock placed both hands on his desk, “We’ve just handed you a murder inquiry.” He said to him, “Five minutes, in his flat.”

* * *

 

- ** _Brian Lukis Flat_** -

They had entered the flat of the Journalist Brian Lukis, ducking under the tape to check out the crime scene. They went upstairs and the Holmes siblings looked around the living room, they spotted an open suitcase, the black origami flower the same one found in Van Coon’s mouth, books scattered around and newspapers. It wasn’t before Sherlock turned his attention to the window. He moved the curtains to get a better look; Violet looked over at the window with her brother.

She smiled while Sherlock smirked at this. “Four floors up.” Sherlock stated, “That’s why they think their safe. Put chain across the door, bolt it shut think your impregnable. They don’t reckon for a second that there’s another way in.”

“I don’t understand.” Dimmock said as Sherlock walked past him.

“Dimmock is dealing with a killer who can climb. Is basically what brother is saying.” Violet said before sneezing.

Sherlock used what was provided to stand up on top to take a look at the window up on the ceiling.

Dimmock couldn’t help but ask, “What are you doing?”

“He clings like an insect.” Sherlock said, ignoring Dimmocks question. He unhooked the latch and opened the window, “That’s how he got in.”

“What?!” Dimmock exclaimed.

“The killer climbed up the walls.” The detective explained, “Ran along the roof and dropped through the skylight.”

“You’re joking.” The Inspector said in disbelief, “Who is he, Spiderman?”  

“The killer also scaled six floors and dropped on the balcony to get to Van Coon.” Violet added before blowing her nose, with tissues that she bought with her.

Dimmock stated, “But that’s impossible!”

“It’s the same thing when he broke into the bank.” Sherlock added, “He used the window’s ledge to jump on the terrace.”

He jumped down from what he was standing on, and said to Violet and John, “We need to find out what connects these two men.”

Violet soon noticed a book, in a pile that was scattered. She picked it up and saw that it was book that had been recently borrowed from the West Kensington Library. She showed it to Sherlock and John, and her brother got what she was saying.

They caught a cab and went straight to the library; going up the stairs they found the aisle where the book was most likely taken out. Sherlock looked over the date it was taken out, “It was lent out on the day that he died.

He started to take out the books from the shelves based on the reference number that was in the spine of the book; he handed the books he was taking out to Violet so that she could hold on to. Normally with things like this she doesn’t mind, but the headache, stuffy nose, and drowsiness she had said otherwise.

John looked in the shelves just across from where they were looking. After moving a few books out of the way he saw something that shouldn’t be there.

“Sherlock. Violet.” He said getting their attention. They went over to John and Sherlock removed the books from the shelf. When he removed enough books they saw the very same symbols that was on the bank.

The trio found themselves back at the flat of 221B, looking over the photographs and going over the information that they had found so far.

“The killer breaks into the bank and leaves a message for Van Coon.” Sherlock said, “He returns to his apartment frightened, and shuts himself in the room, hours later he dies.”

“The killer leaves a code on the library where Lukis is sure to find and see it, he returns home…”

“Than Lukis dies on the same day as Van Coon.” Violet finished, before coughing.  

“Why did they have to die?” John asked, “What was there to gain?”

“The answer is in the code.” Sherlock said, “We just need to crack it.”

* * *

 

- ** _Later at Trafalgar Square_** -

Sherlock and John stood by the fountain all while the Violet sat right in front of the fountain, playing with the water.

“The world’s run on codes and ciphers.” Sherlock explained, “From the million pound security system at the bank to the pin machine you took exception to. Cryptography inhabits our every waking moment.”

“Yes, okay, but…” John said.

“But it’s all computer generated, electronic codes, electronic ciphering methods.” Sherlock said, “All of this is different. It’s an ancient device, so modern code-breaking methods won’t unravel it.”

“So what are we doing here?” John couldn’t help but ask.

Violet had replied, taking her hand out of the water, “Sherlock, John and Violet are going to see this one’s acquaintance, so Sherlock can get advice.”

John did a double take over to Sherlock, “You heard her perfectly John, she’s not gonna say it again.”

“You need advice?” He said in disbelief.

“On painting.” Sherlock stated, “We need to go talk to expert, in other words Violet’s acquaintance.”

John couldn’t help but ask, “I thought Violet was an expert on painting.”

“Street art isn’t really this one’s strongest in painting.” Violet said.

They three of them went to the side of the National Gallery building where they spotted a young man just finishing up his picture by tagging the name RAZ under it; the picture was of an officer, holding a rifle but the officer had a big snout on where his nose should be. Violet took a look at the image he was working on.

“This picture is new.” Violet said to the man named RAZ.

“You like it Vi?” He asked, “It’s part of my new exhibition.”

“Interesting.” Sherlock said with disinterest.

“It’s fascinating.” Violet complimented, “This one likes it.”

RAZ said to her with a grin, “Thank you. I call it… Urban Bloodlust Frenzy.”

“Hmm, catchy title.” John said also with disinterest.

“In two minutes a Community Patrol Officer will come around the corner.” RAZ said to them, “Can we do this while I’m working?”

Violet took out her phone and bought up the picture she took from when they were at the bank and library; She handed her phone to RAZ.

RAZ threw the paint can over to John which he catched, and took the phone from her hand; he looked the photo’s swiping through with his thumb. “Does RAZ know the author to this?” Violet asked him.

“No.” RAZ replied, “But I recognize the paint. It’s like Michigan hardcore propellant. I’d say zinc.”

“What about the symbols?” Sherlock asked him, “Do you recognize them?”

“I’m not even sure it’s in the proper language.” RAZ replied.

“Two men have been murdered RAZ.” Sherlock told him, “Deciphering this is the key to finding out who killed them.”

RAZ said to him, “And this is your only lead? It’ll be impossible with just this.”

“Is RAZ going to help or not?” Violet asked him.

After looking Violet straight in the eye, he handed the phone back to her and sighed in defeat, “I’ll ask around.”

“Someone will know something about this.” The detective said.

Just than like RAZ predicted, two Community Patrol Officers came around the corner. “ **OI!** ” One of them shouted running over to John, “What are you doing here? This is a public building.”

“No, no wait.” John said to the officer, “It’s not me who painted that. I was just holding this for--”

John stopped in mid-sentence, when he saw RAZ, even Sherlock and Violet were gone. It was obvious to him, that they just took off running. The officer looked in the bag and just gave a look to John.

“Bit of an enthusiast are we?”

 


	13. The Lucky Cat

- ** _National Antiquities Museum_** -

Andy still had a hard time believing that his co-worker Soo Lin Yao had just quit her job. It was all to sudden, and he couldn’t help but find it suspicious. He was currently talking to his boss, the Director of the museum about it.

“She was in the middle of restoring tea pots, why would she leave so suddenly?” Andy asked her.

“It was something about a family matter.” The Director said, “It said so in her letter.”

“But she doesn’t have any family!” Andy said, “She came to England on her own!”

“Andy...”

“She was passionate about those teapots, they were her obsession! For her just to abandon something even though she spent weeks struggling with, I just can’t believe it.”

“...Don’t you think it might be because someone was pestering her?”

The Director walked away; Andy turned to his other colleagues that had turned away awkwardly, while he just stood there in silence.

* * *

 

- ** _221B Baker Street_** -

Sherlock stood in front of the photographs once more, getting lost in his own thoughts; Violet was asleep in her bean bag chair; As she slept she would occasionally let out raspy coughs. Sherlock by now, figured what she was keeping from him. If there was anything he knew about Violet, it’s when it came to secrets she didn’t do a good job at keeping them (At least for him anyway). As he looked over Violet curled up in her bean bag chair with a blanket protecting her from the cold, he just shook his head and couldn’t help but mumble, “Idiot.” He turned his attention back to the photographs.

As he looked through his small notebook, he heard John come into the flat.

“You’re late.” Sherlock said to him.

John sighed and looked over to him, “Well… It couldn’t be help could it? I mean it’s the bureaucratic mode of business isn’t it? Police investigation that is. There’s fingerprints. There’s paperwork. I have to go to court on Tuesday…”

Sherlock pretty didn’t much hear what John said; all he said was, “What?”

“ ** _ME. IN COURT. ON TUESDAY._** ” John said to him with anger in his tone of voice, “They’re giving me an **_ASBO*_**!”

( ** _*For those of you that don’t know, ASBO stands for Anti-Social Behaviour Order_** )

“I see. Great.” Sherlock said, not paying attention since he was more focused on what was in front of him.

“You know you’re welcome to tell your sisters little pal he’s welcome to go on up anytime.” John said obviously still angry.

Sherlock slammed his book shut and heaved out a sigh, “This symbol: I can’t quite place it.” He placed his book down on the coffee table and turned to John, who had just started to take his jacket off; he pulled it back over his shoulders.

“No I need you to go to the police station.” Sherlock said, “Ask about the journalist. Take my sister with you, and make sure she stays close to you; she has a habit of wandering off on her own.”

“Wait, what?” John said being taken by surprise.

He went over to wake up Violet; giving a few taps on her leg she opened her eyes with a groan. He threw her jacket and scarf over to her, and she pretty much got the message. He than went to grab his coat and scarf; He than turned back to John.

“I’m sure they had his personal effects confiscated.” He said to him, “Get something that’ll tell us of his movements. A journal maybe.”

The three of them went down the stairs and went to get a cab. “Where’s Sherlock going?” Violet asked her brother still feeling drowsy.

“I’m going to see Van Coon’s PA. You’re going to the Police Station with John.” Sherlock told her,  “If we retrace our steps somewhere they’ll coincide.” He was about to walk away, when he felt Violet grab him by the coat. He turned around and said to her, “Violet, you have to go with John this time. We’ll meet up later alright?”

“But… What if this one sees the big bad wolf again?” Violet asked him.

Sherlock patted her on the head and told her, “It won’t be long I promise. Just stay close to John, do whatever he tells you.” He gave her a kiss on the forehead and took his leave. John hailed a cab, but right before he entered he saw a woman taking pictures just across the street.

“Scotland Yard.” He told the driver.

The driver nodded, and they both got in the cab and it drove. Violet was resting her head on John’s shoulder. “Hey Violet?” John said, she grunted in reply, “Did you see someone just now, taking pictures?”

“No.” Violet said tiredly, “This one didn’t see anything.”

“Are you sure your alright? You’ve like this for almost three days now.” John said.

“This one is… Fine. She’s just tired.”

“You know, if you’re not feeling too good, we can always turn around and--”

“No. Violet will be alright.”

Violet had closed her eyes and just started to sleep again. John sighed in defeat and couldn’t help but think, “Even though she’s not blood related, she really is like her brother.”

* * *

 

- ** _Shad. Sanderson Bank_** -

Sherlock had already arrived at the bank, and met up with Van Coon’s assistant named Amanda who was currently looking through an online calendar for him. “He came from Dalian on Friday.” She explained, “Straight after we went out to a business meeting.”

“Can you print me a copy?” Sherlock asked her.

“Sure.”

“What about the day he died?”

Amanda checked the calendar. “Sorry.” She replied, “It’s a bit of a gap.”

Sherlock couldn’t help but let out a frustrated grunt. It was only than till she realized something. “I have all his receipts.” Amanda went ahead to get them.

* * *

 

- ** _New Scotland Yard_** -

Dimmock had a box of Lukis’ things on his desk; he was going through it to see if he could find what John had asked for. John stood there with Violet who was nodding off; trying to keep herself awake.

“You’re friend…” Dimmock said.

“Listen, whatever you say, I’m behind you one hundred percent.” John said.

“He’s an arrogant sod.” He said.

“That arrogant sod happens to be this one's brother.” Violet said with a bit of anger, “For the record she finds that rather insulting.”

“It’s true though.” Dimmock said.

“Now look here--” Violet started to say before getting cut off by John, “Alright, just stay calm okay.” John said to her, “It’s bad for your health you know.”

Violet calmed down after taking a deep breath; she let out a few raspy coughs.

“But that is putting mild.” John said, “Most people call him worse than that.”

Dimmock handed John a book to him. “This what you want right?” He asked him, “Lukis’ journal.”

John took the journal from him and read through it along with Violet.

-At that Moment-

“What kind of boss was he Amanda?” Sherlock asked her as he looked through the receipts, “Appreciative?”

Amanda replied, “Well… I wouldn’t say that. The only things Eddie appreciated had a big price tag.”

Sherlock asked her, “Was that expensive hand-cream from him as well?”

Amanda didn’t reply; all she did was brush her hair back nervously. Sherlock soon found something interesting in the receipts. “Look at this.” Sherlock said handing her one of them, “He took a taxi on the day that he died, eighteen pounds fifty.”

“From his place to the office?”

“Not during rush hour; check the time. Mid-morning. Eighteen would get him so far…”

“Ah! The West End! I remember him saying that.”

Sherlock looked through the receipts again; he found an underground ticket with the same date. He handed it to her, “One o’clock, Piccadilly Station.” He said.

“He got a tube back to the office?” Amanda said, “That doesn’t make any sense, why would he go by taxi and come back underground?”

Sherlock replied, “Because he was carrying something heavy with him on the way there.”

She gave a quizzical look, “Carrying something?”

He said, “To somewhere close to the Piccadilly Station. Dropped the package delivered it and then… stopped on his way.” He found a receipt that belonged to a fast food restaurant.

“He got peckish!”

* * *

 

- ** _Later at the London Streets_** -

Sherlock was walking down the block looking around, passing by an Espresso Bar.

“So you bought your lunch from here en route to the station…” He thought aloud, “But where were you heading from? Where did the taxi drop you?”

Sherlock stopped in his tracks when he bumped into someone. When he turned around he saw it was none other than John, with his little sister beside him.

Sherlock immediately said to them, “Van Coon bought something here on the day he died! This was indicated by his receipts! Whatever he carried here was probably what he had in the suitcase!”

“Right.” Was the only thing John could say.

“After he returned from his trip to China, he had business at a place near here.”

“We know. It’s in a store over there.” John said pointing towards Chinatown. “How did you know that?” Sherlock asked him a bit confused.

Violet answered for him, rubbing her eyes, “It was in Lukis journal. He came here too. He wrote down the address.” John and Violet went over to Chinatown while Sherlock stood there dumbfounded. “Oh.” Was all he said before he ran after them.

The address lead to a small shop filled with cats with their paws going back and forth. They entered the shop where the shopkeeper politely greeted them. She asked John, “You want, Lucky Cat?”

“No, no thanks.” John said. Sherlock turned and couldn’t help but smirk, while Violet giggled.

“Ten pound! Ten pound!”

“No.”

“I think your wife. She will like.”

John picked up the cup and flipped it; he saw something familiar to him. “Sherlock, Violet.” John said getting their attention. They both went over to him and saw it was the same symbol they saw on the cipher.

“The price tag…” John said

“Yes, we see it.” Sherlock said.

He had placed the cup back where he found it, “It’s the same as the cipher.” Sherlock and Violet looked at each other, both of them had put the pieces together. It was later they found themselves walking down the street of Chinatown.

“It’s an ancient number system!” Sherlock said, “Hangzhou! These days only street traders use it. Those numbers were written on the wall at the bank and library.”

“All of the numbers are written in a Ancient Chinese dialect.” Violet said. John spotted another price tag. “It’s the number fifteen!” John said, “Rather than an artist tag, the number fifteen.”

Sherlock spotted another price tag that had a horizontal line, “And then that there’s what looks like a blindfold, the Chinese number one.”

Violet said, “So… if Van Coon and Lukis met in the same place and went to China, and knew of the numbers that traders only use. That would make Van Coon and Lukis… Smugglers?”

Sherlock and John both stopped in there tracks, and turned to her, surprised that she made that sort of deduction; Violet was confused by the expressions they had on their faces, “What?” She asked, “Did this one say something wrong?”Sherlock broke the silence and picked her up off the ground causing her sister to squeak in surprise, “Violet, you little genius!” He said before kissing her on the cheek; he set her down on the ground, “That explains it! Oh, it makes perfect sense now!”

 **  
**John turned to Violet and saw the expression on her face. She was in complete and utter shock by her brothers sudden affection. She noticed John staring at her and she just walked away, hiding the look of embarrassment on her face; he couldn’t help but chuckle. John went to follow the Holmes siblings unaware that someone was watching them from afar in the crowd.


	14. Soo Lin Yao

The trio were now sitting in a Chinese restaurant that was nearby; John of course was eating a plate of pan fried noodles, while Violet drank a cup of sparkling water since her stomach was bothering her. “So to recap.” John said after swallowing the food in his mouth, “Two men travel back from China and both of them headed for the Lucky Cat store. What did they see?”

“It’s not what they saw.” Sherlock said, “It’s what they bought back in those suitcases.”

“You don’t mean duty free? They’re smugglers like what Violet said in her deduction?” He asked him.

Sherlock drummed his fingers on the table. “Think about what Sebastian said to us.” He said to him, “About Van Coon, about how he stayed afloat in the market.”

“He lost five million and…”

“... Made it back in a week. That’s how he made easy money.”

“Well he was a smuggler like what Violet said.”

“A guy like him… It would’ve been perfect. Business man…”

“... Making frequent little trips to Asia. And Lukis…”

“... Was a journalist writing about China. Both of them smuggled stuff out, and the Lucky Cat was their drop-off.”

“But that still explain why they died. I mean if they both turn up at the shop to deliver the goods, why would someone threaten to kill them afterwards?”

Violet had finished her drink and thought of something. “This one thinks one of them was light fingered.”

Sherlock turned to her and said, “My thoughts exactly.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” John asked the two of them.

“Violet means that one of them took something.” Violet explained, “And that would mean…”

John finished for her, “...The killer doesn’t know who took them, so he threatens to kill them both.”

“Why else would Van Coon and Lukis have to die?” Violet said, “It’s the only reason why the killer would do what he did.”

Sherlock turned to the window, and saw something that caught his eye, just next to the Lucky Cat shop; he found it to be curious. Violet noticed the expression on her brothers face. “Sherlock?” Violet asked him.

Over just next to the Lucky Cat shop was a yellow page book wrapped in plastic; but it appeared to be wet. “One of you remind me…” He said, “ ** _When was the last time it rained?_** ”

He got up from his seat and exited the restaurant; Violet was quick to follow her brother, and John was the last one to trail behind. Sherlock kneeled down and felt the plastic of course it was soaked; he than felt the pages and found that it was drenched. “It’s been here since Monday.” He told the two of them.

He went ahead and rang the doorbell that was labeled “ ** _Soo Lin Yao_** ”; The only reply they had gotten was silence. Sherlock then went into the alleyway, with John and Violet following not too far behind him.

“No one has been in that flat for at least three days.” Sherlock told them.

John suggested, “They could’ve gone on holiday.”

They were at the back of the flat and Violet spotted an open window, “Does John leave his window open when he goes on holiday?”

Without warning Sherlock makes a short run; he jumps and grabs a hold of a cantilevered metal fire escape; he runs up but the fire escape retracted itself before John and Violet could follow.

“Sherlock!” John shouted, before running to the front door. Violet didn’t even bother trying to jumping for it since she knew she was too short for it. As she walked out of the alleyway, she could’ve sworn that the world was spinning. She stumbled but used the wall for support and she couldn’t help but groan. She looked up and saw what appeared to be a wolf on it’s hind legs--Wait a wolf?

She blinked a couple of times but found that there was nothing there and the world had stopped spinning. When she got her footing back, and went to the front door where John was.

Sherlock entered the flat through the open window, but as he did, he knocked over a plant nearby. He was quick to catch it before it could hit the ground. When he did however he saw that there was a wet spot on the floor. Placing the plant back where it was he called out to his sister and John, “Someone else has been here! Somebody came in here and knocked over the plant like I did!”

He continued to look around the kitchen ignoring the sound of the doorbell ringing. “Sherlock?” John said, “Think maybe you can let me in this time?”

Outside John opened the mail opener and said, “Can you _**NOT**_ keep doing this please?” He closed it and couldn’t help but sigh. He turned to Violet who was leaning against the wall, “Does he always do things like this?”

“John would be surprised about half the things Sherlock does…” Violet said rubbing her eyes, and yawning.

 

Within the flat, Sherlock looked into the fridge and took a carton of milk. He smelled but groaned in disgust; he put the milk back where it was, and closed the fridge shut. “I’m not the first!” Sherlock shouted to John and Violet.

“What?” John said not quite hearing him.

“Somebody has been in here before me!” He shouted again.

“What are you saying?”

Sherlock moved to the living which was also a bedroom, and looked around. He found what appeared footprints in the rug. He took a closer look with his magnifier. “Small… Athletic.” He said to himself. He went to pick up a photograph that was of a little girl and boy; both of them looked like they were happy. There were fingerprints on the frame; he looked over it with his magnifier, running his gloved hand over it.

“Small, strong hands.” He said, “Our acrobat.”

He turned to the open window in the kitchen, “Why didn’t he close the window when he le--?”

He stopped himself in mid-sentence when he put two and two together.

“Oh of course… Stupid, obvious… He’s still here.”

Placing the photograph back where it was and his magnifier in his pocket, he started to move towards the screen that was in the room; slowly and quietly. When he close enough he grabbed the screen and moved it out of the way; but no one appeared to be behind it. Suddenly he felt what appeared to be a scarf wrap around his neck. He started to choke and gag, and struggled to get it off.

“ **JOHN!!** ” He shouted as he struggled to breath, “ **JOHN!!** ”

Outside the flat, John flips open the mail door again. “Any time you want to include us!” John said. When he received no answer from him he couldn’t but pace angrily. “This is unbelievable, really unbelievable!” John said to Violet, who kept tilting her head back and forth.

John said out of anger, “Hello I’m Sherlock Holmes and I always work alone because no can compete with my… **_MASSIVE INTELLECT!_** ”

Violet seemed to ignore what John asked and said, “Why is there two of John?”

John looked at her questioningly by what she said to him.

Within the flat, Sherlock started to feel himself lose conscious. He let himself let go of the scarf and lie still with his eyelids half closed. The intruder let go of him and shoved something in his pocket. When the intruder climbed out the window, Sherlock let out horrific coughs and forced himself to stand up; he removed the scarf from his neck and took deep breaths. He goes through his coat pockets and took out a black paper flower. The very same ones they had found in Van Coon and Lukis’ flat.

He stumbled when he stood and made his way down the stairs. He opened the front door, almost making John fall over. “The, uh, milk's gone off and the washing’s starting to smell.” He explained to John and his sister; his voice all croaky, from being strangled, “Someone left here in a hurry three days ago.”

“Somebody?” John asked him.

“Soo Lin Yao. We have to find her.”

“How are we supposed to do that?”

Sherlock looked to the ground and picked up a folded envelope. On the back it read, “Soo Lin Yao, Please ring me and tell me your okay. -Andy” He looked on the front and it was labeled, “National Antiquities Museum”

“We can start with this.” He said, before taking a quick glance to Violet; he saw that her skin was slightly pale and her face was flushed with red, and her eyes looked a bit watery. He took her hand and as she walked with him she was a bit wobbly.

“You’re sounding a bit croaky, you’re not getting sick too are you?” John asked him.

Sherlock coughed and replied, “I’m fine.”

* * *

 

- ** _National Antiquities Museum_** -

Sherlock was pacing around the many displays, while John leaned on a glass table near a case with pots and cups made from clay, while Violet was sitting on bench nearby with her eyes half open. Sherlock had asked the staff member named Andy, “When was the last time you saw her?”

Andy replied, “Three days ago, here at the museum.”

The detective looked over at the pots and cups made from clay. Most of them were dulled while one shined. He looked over at the other displays one of them made of jade.

“They uh, told me she resigned this morning, just like that.” Andy explained, “Just left her work unfinished.”

Sherlock turned and asked him, “What was she doing on her final afternoon?”

The three of them went to the basement archive along with Andy. Violet was pretty much clinging to Sherlock’s arm since she felt uneasy about basements; she let out a few raspy coughs as she walked with him.

“She does this demonstration for tourists.” Andy explained to them, “A tea ceremony. So she would’ve packed up her things and just put them in here.”

He started to open a stack so that they would get a better look. Violet turned and noticed a statue looking out of place in the room. She tugged on her brothers coat to get his attention. When she did, she pointed towards it, and his eyes followed. He walked closer to it, along with Violet. On the statue there was the same chinese characters of the number fifteen and one in the familiar yellow paint.

Andy and John both turned and saw it too.

They were now walking outside of the museum, to go and catch a cab.

“We have to get to Soo Lin Yao before the killer does.” Sherlock said to the two.

“If she’s still alive.” John said.

They soon heard someone familiar call out to them. “HEY VI!”

The three of them turned around and saw it was the street artist, Violet’s acquaintance RAZ.

“Oh look who it is.” John said with sarcasm.

“What is it?” Violet asked him, her voice slightly croaky.

“I found something that you’ll like.” RAZ said.

They were now following RAZ over the bridge; Violet was still hanging on to Sherlock’s hand as they went through the crowd. “Just show up in court on Tuesday morning and say the bag was yours.” John said.

“Will you just forget about your court date?” Sherlock asked him. They continued to follow RAZ, but they failed to notice a chinese woman with black shades was watching them from afar. They soon arrived at the skate park and RAZ leads them across the under croft.

“If someone wants to hide a tree than a forest is the best place to do it. Wouldn’t John say?” Violet asked him. John didn’t have a chance to reply when Sherlock said, “People would just walk straight past not knowing unable to decipher the message.”

RAZ pointed towards a pillar. “There.” He said, “I spotted it earlier.”

The three of the of them spotted several slashes of yellow paint over the other kinds of graffitis; many of them formed chinese letters. “They were here.” Sherlock mumbled to himself before asking RAZ, “And that’s the exact same paint?”  

“Yeah.” RAZ replied.

Sherlock said to the two of them, “If we’re going to decipher we’re gonna need more evidence.” The three of them ultimately had decided to split up; Violet went with her brother while John went on his own. Sherlock and her walked along the train tracks, both of them had flashlights in hand. Violet was trailing behind Sherlock trying her best to catch up with him. It wasn’t long before she started to see the whole world spin again; she started to get dizzy.

She fell to her knees and took deep breaths, trying to get herself back together. She felt the sweat come down from the bridge of the nose and onto the floor. Her brother approached her, kneeling down to her side.

“This ones sorry…” She said with a tired voice, “She just needs to…”

She stopped when she felt his hand on her forehead. “... You’re even worse than before.” Sherlock said.

“Violet’s okay…” She said trying to get up, “She can still…”

Violet tried to walk but stumbled again; Sherlock caught her, before she hit the ground. “When we get back to flat, you’re going to get some rest, stay there and leave the rest of this case to myself and John.”

“Okay, but not until, Sherlock, John and Violet find Soo Lin Yao.” Violet said to him.

“Violet, your sick, and you need your rest.”

“This one will be fine. She’ll just take some medicine, and she’ll be okay.”

“Violet--”

“This one promises. She’ll get some rest after Soo Lin Yao is found.”

Sherlock sighed in defeat, “Damn it, sometimes you can be a real pain.” Sherlock couldn’t help but say. He turned and so that his back was facing her, confusing Violet. “You can’t exactly walk, while your sick, so climb on my back.” Sherlock said to her.

“Sherlock is giving me a piggyback ride?” Violet said amused.

“Oh shut up, I’m only allowing it because your not feeling well.” Sherlock told her.

Violet laughed a little and just climbed onto his back. After he was sure she wouldn’t fall off, he stood up and resumed walking along the tracks, looking around with his flashlight. Eventually Violet fell asleep, her head was buried in his shoulder, and he reached the end of the railway, where he found abandoned paint cans. Holding the flashlight in his mouth, he kneeled down and picked up the paint can; he ran his thumb over the nozzle and then sniffs it. Just based on that, he found that it had been thrown away recently.

He stood up and started to walk again. He had soon walked past a bunch of posters that were mostly advertising. He stopped in his tracks when a certain poster caught his eye; he ripped the bottom corner and placed it in his pocket, and he continued walking.

Meanwhile with John, he was walking along the tracks with a flashlight in hand. Eventually his flashlight picked up what appeared to be splashes of yellow paint. He followed the trail and it had lead to a brick wall. He backed up and got a good look of what he was looking at.  When was at a good distance of the wall, he saw that  there were large yellow chinese characters that were of numbers of course.

A little while later John had finally managed to track down Sherlock.

“ **ANSWER YOUR PHONE I’VE BEEN CALLING YOU!** ”  John yelled getting his attention. To which Sherlock immediately shushed him and pointed to Violet who was currently sleeping on his back.

“Sorry.” John whispered, “I’ve found it.”

John lead the way to where he found the Chinese symbols. When they got there however the entire wall was painted over with black; the symbols were nowhere to be seen.

John stumbled as he stuttered, “I--I don’t understand… It-it was here, it was right here… There was a whole lot of graffiti ten minutes ago!”

Sherlock placed Violet against the side of the wall as gently as he could, so he wouldn’t wake her. “Somebody doesn’t want me or my sister to see it.” He said after looking at the blank wall again. He turns and grabs John’s head.

“Wait a minute, what are you--” John said before Sherlock shushed him again.

“John, I need you to concentrate, close your eyes.” Sherlock instructed.

“No!” John said, before asking, “Wait, why?”

He lowered his hands to John’s upper arms and started to spin on the spot, “What are you doing?” John asked him.

I need you to maximize your visual memory.” Sherlock said to John while staring at him intensely, “Try to picture what you saw. Can you picture it?”  

“Yeah.”

“Can you remember it?”

“Yes definitely.”

“Can you remember the pattern?”

“Yes.”

“How much of it can you remember?”

“Well don’t worry…”

“Because the average human memory on a visual matters is only sixty-two percent accurate.”

“Yeah, well don’t worry, I remember all of it!”  

Sherlock looked at him in disbelief, “Really?” John got himself out of Sherlock’s grip, “Well, I would if you would let me get to my pockets!” John said. He started to rummage through his pocket, and got out his phone.

“I took a photo.” John said showing him the picture. He handed it to Sherlock and he took it looking very embarrassed by this.

He just said to John, “Do me a favor don’t mention this to Violet.”

* * *

 

- ** _Next Day at 22B_** -

Sherlock was looking at the photos again, even looking the recent image they had gotten from train tracks last night. Violet had already written down the numbers when she woke up, after she had taken DayQuil. “They’re always in pairs.” Sherlock said to Violet and John who was trying to keep himself awake.

“The numbers are always with partners.” Violet said.

John groaned and rubbed his eyes, “God I need some sleep.” He said.

“This one wonders why the killer would paint it near the tracks.” Violet said, her voice sounded nasal from her stuffy nose.

“No idea.” John replied.

Sherlock said. “Thousands of people pass by there everyday.”

By than John wasn’t even listening; all he said was, “20 minutes that’s all I need.”

Sherlock and Violet both thought about why the Chinese symbols were there to begin with, and they both came to the same conclusion. “Of course.” Sherlock said, “Of course, he wants information! He’s trying to communicate with his people in the underworld! Whatever was stolen, he wants it back. The answer is in here. Somewhere in this code.”

Violet turned to her brother, “Sherlock, Violet, and John can’t do this without Soo Lin Yao.”

“I know.” Sherlock said, taking the pictures down from the wall, “John, let’s go!” He said to the doctor grabbing his coat and scarf, Violet doing the same.

“Oh good.” John said with a groan.

* * *

 

- ** _National Antiquities Museum_** -

The three of them were back in the display room talking to Andy once more.

“Two men have traveled back from China and were murdered.” Sherlock said to Andy, “And their killer left them messages in Hangzhou numerals.”

“Soo Lin Yao is in danger.” John said, “That cipher is the same pattern as the others. He means to kill her as well.”

Andy rubbed the back of his neck, “Look, I’ve tried everywhere, friends, colleagues. I don’t know where she’s gone.” Andy explained, “I mean, she could be a thousand miles away.”

Violet turned to the display case with the pots and cups made of clay, and noticed something very peculiar. “Brother.” Violet said getting his attention. When she got it, she pointed and his eyes followed to the display case; he noticed it too.

“What are you both looking at?” John asked them.

Sherlock ignored his question and said to Andy, “Tell me more about those teapots.”

Andy nodded and said, “The pots were her obsession. They need urgent work otherwise the clay could crumble if it drys out. Apparently you just need to make tea in them.”

John noticed the look on his face, “What is it?” He asked.

Sherlock said not taking his eye off the pots, “Yesterday only one of those pots were shining. **_Now they’re two_**.”

* * *

 

- ** _Later that Night_** -

A shadowy figure approached the display case with the teapots. After making sure the alarms were off, the person took a pot and cups from the case, and the person made his way to the restoration room. Only a few lights dimmed in the room as the person brewed tea and poured it into the clay pot. He poured it on to the cups completely soaking them before he soaked the tea pot entirely; swishing the tea around inside. He did notice that another person walked into the room.

“Fancy a biscuit with that?”

Catching the person by surprise, he accidently dropped the pot, but the other person caught it before the pot could hit the ground. The other person revealed to be Sherlock Holmes.

“Centuries old.” He said to the person, “Don’t break it.”

He straightens up and hands the teapot back to the person. The lights finally turn on in the restoration room and the shadowy figure was revealed to be Soo Lin Yao.

“Hello.” Sherlock greeted with a friendly smile.


	15. The Spider to the Fly

Sherlock, Violet and John all sat in the restoration room with the woman named Soo Lin Yao, who had been missing for three days and had already been threatened. John was across from Soo Lin, while Violet sat next to her and Sherlock stood at the end of the table.

“You all saw the cipher.” She said to them, “Than you know that he is coming for me.”

“Soo Lin has been clever to avoid the killer so far.” Violet said still with a nasal voice.

“I had to finish… To finish this work.” Soo Lin said, “It’s only a matter of time, I know he will find me.”

Sherlock asked Soo Lin, “Who is he? Have you met him before?”

Soo Lin nodded in reply, “When I was a girl, living back in China. I recognize his… signature.”

“The cipher.”

“Only he would do this. **_Zhi Zhu_**.”

“Zhi Zhu?” John said questioningly.

“Zhi Zhu is translated to the Spider.” Violet said to him.

Soo Lin bought her right foot to her left knee, and removed her shoe. On the underside of her heel there was a tattoo that was of a circle and inside it was a flower; the whole tattoo was in black. “Do you know this mark?” She had asked, directing her question to Sherlock.

“Yes.” He replied, “It’s the mark of the Tong.”

“Tong?” John asked again.

Violet had her head tilted to the side, “This one’s never heard of it before.”

Sherlock explained to the two of them, “It’s an Ancient crime syndicate based in China.” Both of them nodded in understanding.

“Every soldier bares the mark.” Soo Lin said, “Everyone who hauls for them.”

“Hauls?” John said with confusion. All Soo Lin did was look over to John, and his eyes widened in realization, “Y-you mean you were a smuggler?”

Soo Lin had said nothing, she just lowered her gaze and put her shoe back on. “I was fifteen.” Soo Lin said, “My parents were dead. I had no livelihood; no way of surviving day to day, except to work for the bosses.”

“Who are they?” The detective asked her.

Soo Lin replied, “They are called the Black Lotus. By the time I was sixteen, I was taking thousands of pounds worth of drugs across the border into Hong Kong. I managed to leave that life behind me, and I came to England.”

She smiled a little, “They gave me a job here. Everything was good; I had a new life.”

“Then he came looking for you.”

“Yes.”

Soo Lin felt herself about to cry. She continued tearfully, “I had hoped, that after five years, maybe they would’ve forgotten about me, but they never really let you leave. A small community like ours… They are never far away.”

Soo Lin had wiped away her tears, and Violet comforted her in the only way she knew how; She gave her a reassuring pat on the back. Soo Lin turned to her and couldn’t help but let out a small smile that was short lived.

She continued, “He came to my flat. He asked me to help him to track down something that was stolen.”

“And you have no idea what it was?” John asked her.

Soo Lin had simply replied, “I refused to help.”

“So, wait, did you know him well, when you were living back in China?”

“Yes… He is my brother.”

The three of them were surprised to hear this.

“Two orphans.” Soo Lin continued, “We had no choice. We could work for the Black Lotus, or starve like beggars. My brother has become their puppet, in the power of the one they call Shan--The Black Lotus General. I turned my brother away, he said I had betrayed him. The next day when I came to work, that’s when I saw the cipher.”

Violet took out the photographs of the chinese characters from her pocket, and put them in front of Soo Lin. “Can Soo Lin decipher this?” Violet asked her.

Soo Lin leaned forward to get a better look at the pictures. She pointed to the one on Sir William’s portrait, “These are numbers.”

“Yes we know.” Sherlock said to her.

“The line across the man’s eyes-- It’s the Chinese number one.” She said.

Sherlock pointed to one of the photo’s “And this one is fifteen, but what’s the code?”

Soo Lin replied, “All the smugglers know it. **_It’s based upon on a book…_** ”

Suddenly the lights went out, staring all of them. Soo Lin looked up in dread. “It’s him.” She said quietly with fear, “Zhi Zhu. He has found me.”

Sherlock sprinted out of the room; John had called out softly, “Sherlock! Sherlock wait!”

John took Soo Lin and Violet’s hand and pulled them to a cupboard across the room. “Get in. Get in!” He whispered urgently to them.

Sherlock eventually ran the open foyer with staircases and a balcony. He walked cautiously through the open foyer; to his right a figure of a man by the look of it, ran across the balcony. He pulled out a pistol and started to fire at the detective. Acting fast, Sherlock quickly ducked behind a statue on a low plinth; The man continues to fire.

In the restoration room John looked up when he heard the sound of gunfire. “I’ve gotta go help him.” John said; He turned to Violet, “Stay with her, bolt the door after me.” Violet nodded her head before saying, “Be careful.”

John nodded his head, before heading out of the room. Violet went ahead to bolt the door shut, and then went back to her hiding place where Soo Lin was. Violet tried her best to hide her fear, as she said, “Soo Lin will be alright. This one’s brother and John will take care of it.”

Soo Lin nodded to the young teen, even though she didn’t believe her; but she saw that she was shaking out of fear. She took Violet’s hand and squeezed it as did Violet, both of them were equally afraid.

John walked cautiously through in the foyer but immediately goes for cover when gunshots started to ring out. The man runs across the balcony.

Sherlock was already on the second floor to where the shooter was. He turns around the corner, but the moment he does, the shooter started to fire at him again. With a quick pace he took cover behind display case that was filled with skulls.

“ **CAREFUL!** ” He shouted over the gunfire, “ **SOME OF THESE SKULLS ARE OVER TWO HUNDRED THOUSAND YEARS OLD, SHOW SOME RESPECT!** ”

The shots had ceased. “Thank you.” Sherlock said. It wasn’t long until he realized it had gotten too quiet. He looked through the glass case and saw that the shooter was nowhere to be seen. They soon heard the sound of drums echo throughout the museum, all the way to the restoration room. When the drumming stops, Violet’s fear began to rise.

Soo Lin gave out a shaky breath, and said to Violet, “Stay here, no matter what happens.”

Soo Lin got up from where she was hiding; However Violet tried to stop her, “No wait!” She called out softly, “Soo Lin should stay!”

Violet reached out to her, but when she did, she saw a different woman right in front of her, wearing the grey dress hoodie.

“ ** _Promise me you’ll stay here, no matter what happens…_** ”

“Mama?” Violet whispered after hearing her mother's voice. Violet shook the image out of her head, and went to follow Soo Lin.

A breeze blew gently on a paper, as Soo Lin stood up. A chinese man, older than Soo Lin approached her from behind. Soo Lin turned around, and she knew who it was. She spoke cantonese ** _*_** to him; hesitating between words and cupping his face.

( ** _*Cantonese is one of the Chinese dialects_** )

He took out his gun and just when he was about to pull the trigger he was attacked from behind. Violet took a swing with a broom she picked up nearby, causing him to lose his balance, and fall to the floor.

“ **SOO LIN RUN!!** ” Violet shouted, before she was kicked to the floor. She was forced to let the broom go; She fell on her back and before she could get up, she was found at gunpoint. Seeing no way out she squeezed her eyes shut, and he pulled the trigger.

Surprisingly though she felt no pain what-so-ever. With hesitation she opened her eyes, and found the reason why she didn’t feel any agony of any kind. Soo Lin had shielded her from the bullet; Violet’s eyes widened in horror.

“Soo… Lin…?”

Soo Lin fell on her side, the puddle of blood started to appear, soaking through her shirt and Violet’s skirt. All the young teen could do was stare in horror, as she saw the color leave Soo Lin’s eyes. The image that Violet saw seemed to switch back and forth, from the woman wearing a dress hoodie, back to Soo Lin. In fact, everything around her seemed to change into something different.

She found herself in a house, with brick walls hardwood floors with a fireplace. She heard ran outside hitting against the window, and thunder roared through the skies.

Violet started to breath with anxiety; her fears skyrocketed. “No…” She said going into a fetal position, “Not again… Not again…”

She heard faint growling coming from behind. Hesitantly, she slowly turned around, and saw a shadowy figure with a large blooded knife in his hand come into the room.

Violet started to back up as the monstrous figure slowly walked towards her. “No… No!” Violet cried out, “Get back! Stay away!”

The monstrous figure was eventually towering over her, and she had backed up into a corner, bearing fangs and claws in all. It grabbed her arm and that point Violet, started to shake violently to get out of his grip.

“ **NO! NO!** ” She cried out, “ **LET GO!! LET GO!! GET AWAY!! HELP!! SOMEONE HELP!!** ”

“ **VIOLET SNAP OUT OF IT! IT’S ME!** ”

Violet stopped struggling and saw the familiar military doctor right in front her.

“John…?” She said with a shaky breath.

John nodded, “Yeah, it’s me… Are you okay?”

Violet started to squeeze out tears, the images still flowing into her head. “Brother…” She said with her voice cracked, “Brother…”

John slowly reached out to her, placing his hand on her shoulder. “Alright, alright.” He reassured the young teen, “I don’t know if he has his phone on him, but I won’t leave you; I’ll send him a text to see if--”

Just than the doors slammed open; Sherlock came running into the room, with the look of panic on his face. “Sherlock!” John said, standing up.

Sherlock didn’t say anything to him, and saw the state Violet was in.

“Violet!” He cried out, as he ran over to her.

“Violet saw it again…” She said with her voice still cracked, “The Big Bad Wolf… She saw it again…”

Sherlock gently pulled her in a hug. “It’s alright.” He said caressing her hair, “It’s alright…”

Violet just leaned into the hug, and cried softly in his chest; still shaking with fear. Just next the trio, was the body of Soo Lin Yao; an origami flower which was of the color black, layed in the palm of her hand.

 


	16. Message in the Bottle

- ** _New Scotland Yard_** -

The three of them had once again arrived in the New Scotland Yard to see the Inspector in charge of the case, Inspector Dimmock. Violet was right next to her brother, his arm was around protectively; her eyes were red from the crying, and she was still a bit shaken up by her recent episode. She would shiver every now and then.

John said to Dimmock, “A young girl was gunned down tonight and killed, and another was almost his next victim. That’s three victims in three days and Violet was almost the fourth!” Obviously John was still upset at the fact that they couldn’t do anything to help Soo Lin, and the fact that Violet was both traumatized and suffered an episode that Sherlock had talked about. Ever since the Jennifer Wilson case John felt the need to protect Violet like Sherlock, seeing how fragile she can be in the head.

He will be honest that he did have little doubts about it at first, but after seeing the way she had reacted to John when she didn’t recognize him, those doubts went out the window.

Sherlock had said to Dimmock, “Brian Lukis and Eddie Van Coon were working for a gang of international smugglers. The gang call themselves the Black Lotus, and they’ve been operating here in London right under your nose.”

Dimmock turned to Sherlock and asked just one thing, “Can you prove that?”

* * *

- ** _Barthomelows Hospital (Cafe)_** -

Molly was deciding on what food to eat for dinner since she was working late. But everything that was in front of her looked so delicious, so she didn’t know what to decide on exactly.

“What are you thinking? Pork or pasta?”

Molly was a bit startled, but soon calmed down when she saw that it was just Sherlock. Violet was just behind him, but stayed silent.

“Oh, it’s you.” Molly said.

Sherlock looked over the choice of food and said, “I suppose it’s never going trouble Egon Ronay, is it? I’d stick with the pasta. Don’t want to be doing roast pork, not if you’re slicing up cadavers.”

“What are you having?” Molly asked him, feeling a bit awkward.

Sherlock had replied, “I don’t eat when I’m working. Digesting slows me down.”

Molly then asked Violet, “How about you? Are you having anything?”

Violet at first didn’t know what she was asking until she replied, “This one isn’t feeling well, so she doesn’t feel like having anything.”

“Oh, I see.” Molly said before asking Sherlock, “So are you working here tonight?”

Sherlock had replied, “Need to examine some bodies.”

Molly gave a quizzical look on her face, “Some?”

“Eddie Van Coon and Brian Lukis.” Sherlock clarified.

Molly recognized the names and double checked at her clipboard “They’re on my list.” She said.

Sherlock gave her the best puppy dog eyed look, “Could you wheel them out for me again?” He asked her.

Molly replied, “Well, their paperwork has already gone through.”

Sherlock sighed and noticed something different about Molly. “You… You changed your hair.” He pointed out seeing as how it was in a different style ponytail than what he was used to seeing.

“What?” Molly asked not quite hearing him.

“The style.” Sherlock clarified, “It’s usually parted in the middle.”

“Yes, well…”

“It’s good. It… Suits you better this way.”

Molly smiled and blushed slightly; never before did she hear a comment like that from Sherlock.. That seemed to get her to roll out the bodies again, so that Sherlock and Violet can show Dimmock that the Black Lotus was indeed in London.

* * *

- ** _Bartholomew Morgue_** -

The bodies were on the metal table as promised from Molly. Sherlock and Violet along with Detective Inspector Dimmock were in the morgue as well. She was about to unzip the whole bag that contained Brian Lukis, until Violet stopped her by saying, “Violet, Dimmock and Sherlock just need to see the feet.”

Molly was of course confused by this, “Their feet?”

“Yes.” Sherlock said to her, “Do you mind if we take a look?”

Molly went ahead and unzipped the bottom of the bag so that the feet were showing. On the bottom of Brian's foot was a black flower, just like the one that Soo Lin had showed them. Dimmock was taken by shock, and Sherlock seemed satisfied with his expression.

“Now Van Coon.” He said.

Molly moved over to Van Coon and showed them the feet; the same tattoo was on him as well.

“Oh!” Sherlock said with a fake gasp.

Dimmock tried to process the information, “So…”

“So either these two men just happened to visit the same Chinese tattoo parlour, or we’re telling the truth.” Sherlock said for him.

Dimmock had seemed convinced about this now. He asked, “What do you need?”

Violet replied, “This one and Sherlock need every book from Lukis’ apartment as well as Van Coon’s.”

Dimmock seemed to be confused by this.

“Their books?”

* * *

- ** _Later that Night ; 221B Baker Street_** -

The trio walked inside the flat; John placed his jacket on his armchair, and Violet went to sit in her beanbag chair and wrapped herself in a blanket when she started to feel cold. “Not just a criminal organisation.” Sherlock said to the two of them as he started to remove his gloves then coat, “It’s a cult. Her brother was corrupted by one of its leaders.”

“Soo Lin did say the name to us.” John said

Sherlock asked, “What was it again?”

“She said that his name was Shan.” Violet said, “General Shan.”

John said, “Even if we have the name we’re still getting no closer to finding him.”

“Wrong!” Sherlock said to him, “We’ve got almost got everything we need to know. She gave us most of the missing pieces. Why did Zhi Zhou need to visit his sister? Why did he need her expertise?”

“She worked at the museum.”

“Exactly. An expert antiquities.”

“Mmm, of course I see.”

“Valuable antiquities, John. Ancient Chinese relics purchased on the black market. China’s home to a thousand treasures hidden after Mao’s revolution.”

“And the Black Lotus is selling them.”

It wasn’t long till they were searching up on the computer of Chinese Antiquities on that were sold recently at auctions.

“Check for the dates.” Sherlock said to the two of them.

“There!” Violet said as she pointed to a couple of Chinese vases. Sherlock clicked on it to enlarge the picture. “This arrived in China four days ago.” She said as she ran her finger down the description, “This was bought by an anonymous buyer.”

“The buyer doesn’t give his name.” Sherlock said, “Two undiscovered treasures from the East.”

John had added, “One in Lukis’s suitcase and one in Van Coons.”

Sherlock went to search up more of the Chinese artifacts using the keywords “Antiquities sold at auction.”  Immediately, the results they were looking for came up.

“Look here’s another one.” Sherlock pointed out to them; he read the information aloud, “Arrived from China a month ago. Chinese Ceramic statue sold, 400,000.”

John then pointed another one out, “Look at this one here. A month before that, Chinese painting, sold at half a million.”

Violet looked over the other artifacts that stood out to them. “All of them were bought by the anonymous source.” She said.

Sherlock seemed to have put the information together, “They’re stealing them back in China.” He said, “One by one they’re feeding them into Britain.”

John looked back to Lukis’s journal and compared it back to Van Coon’s calendar. “From the looks of it, every single auction coincides with Lukis or Van Coon traveling to China.”

Violet had then asked, “This one wonders… Did Van Coon or Lukis get greedy when they were both in China, and go and steal something?”

“That could explain why Zhi Zhu’s come.” John said.

They soon heard a knock at the door. They turned and saw Mrs. Hudson standing at the doorway.

“Sorry, are we collecting for charity Sherlock?” She asked the detective.

Sherlock seemed confused by this, “What?”

Mrs. Hudson had clarified, “A young man’s outside with a crate of books.”

Shortly after that, several police officers carried in dozens of crates filled with many books; all of them were either from Van Coon’s and Lukis’ flat. The crates of books were stacked on top of one another making towers of them within the small flat.

“So the numbers are references.” Sherlock said.

“To books.” John added.

Violet had also added, “They’re all to specific pages and words in the pages.”

“Right so…” John said, “15 and 1, that means?”

“Turn to page fifteen and it’s the first word you read.” Sherlock explained.

“Okay so what’s the message?”

“That depends on the book. That’s the cunning of the book code. It has to be one that they both own.”

John looked around the stacks of crates within the flat. He let out a sigh, “Right, this shouldn’t take to long.” He said.

The three of them, started to look within the crates and search through the books almost immediately. Dimmock had approached Sherlock and showed him, Violet and John the photo’s of the chinese characters that they had taken earlier. “We found these at the museum.” Dimmock said, before asking John and Violet, “Is this your writing?”

“It’s not this one’s writing.” Violet said, without looking before letting out a raspy cough.

“You didn’t even take a look at it.” Dimmock said to her.

“This one knows the handwriting doesn’t belong to her.” She said to him, before coughing again.

John had then said to Dimmock, “We were hoping that Soo Lin could decipher it for us. Tough.”

Dimmock nodded and handed the bag over to John; he placed it on the desk.

“Is there anything else I could help you with?” Dimmock asked Sherlock, “To assist you I mean.”

“Some silence right now would be marvelous.” Sherlock said rudely before ducking when a pillow was thrown at him; courtesy of Violet. Dimmock said nothing; he just took his leave from the flat. About four hours had already gone by, but none of them seemed to be making any progress.

It wasn’t long before Sherlock had asked, “Violet, did you find a book called--?”

He stopped in mid-sentence when he saw that Violet was fast asleep with a book in her hand and she was still sitting. John wondered why he stopped in mid-sentence until he saw that Violet had fallen asleep.

“I guess she must’ve been tired.” John said, “Should we let her sleep?”

“It’s best that she does.” Sherlock said, “She’s sick anyway, and needs her rest.”

John nodded his head in agreement, “It’s probably for the best.”

Sherlock went over to Violet, and took the book from her hand placing it on the coffee table. He carefully laid her down on her side, and put her legs up on it after carefully removing her shoes since she didn’t take them off before. Than he placed a blanket over her so that she was protected from the cold.

Unconsciously Violet shifted, and she put her thumb to her lip, biting it slightly.

“That’s a new one.” John said taking notice of it.

“It’s a habit she does, whenever she’s asleep.” Sherlock explained as he took the crates that Violet was looking through, “Although she denies it whenever I bring it up.”

As John looked through the books, he couldn’t help but say, “I’m surprised she was able to push herself, to be a part of this. Does she always?”

“It happens every time she get’s a fever.” Sherlock said looking through the books, “She sometimes tries to keep the fact that she’s sick hidden but she’s not good at doing that.”

“Has there been a time, when you’ve gotten sick?” John asked out of curiosity.

Sherlock froze having a sudden memory of a time when he actually did get sick. But honestly he would have it erased from his head. John noticed that he wasn’t answering him.

“Ummm, Sherlock?” John asked awkwardly, “Are you okay?”

“Just…” Sherlock had eventually answered, “Keep looking through the books, alright John?”

“Okay.” John said still feeling a bit awkward.

Thus they kept looking and looking through hoping they could find the code within the same books that Lukis and Van Coon had. They kept on repeating this pattern until morning came.

 


	17. The Traveling Circus

- ** _Local Clinic_** -

A long line was formed at the front desk; all of them were equally wondering about when the doctor was going to see them. “I’m sorry to have to keep you waiting.” The lady at the front desk said, “But we haven’t got anything until next Thursday.”

Sarah just happened to come in the waiting room and saw noticed the long line. She went over to the lady at the front desk. “Um, what’s going on?” She asked her.

The lady replied, “That new doctor you hired, he hasn’t buzzed the intercom for ages.”

 

Sarah was bit shocked by this, “Let me go have a word.”

The lady nodded, and thus Sarah went straight there, till she found herself at the office. She knocked at the door but didn’t receive an answer of any kind. “John?” She said leaning against the door to see if she could hear anything, “John?” Curious to why she didn’t hear anything, she went ahead to open the door. When she did, she found that there new doctor, John Watson, was fast asleep, snoring softly.

A little while later it was already around the time where everybody went home. Sarah was typing away on her computer and soon enough John entered the room putting on his jacket. “Looks like I’m done.” John said, “I thought I had some more to see.”

“Oh I did one or two.” Sarah had replied.

John was taken back by this. “One or two?” He said in disbelief.

“Well, maybe five or six.” She clarified.

John let out a sigh and fixed his jacket, “I’m sorry.” He said, “That’s not very professional.”

“No, not really.” She said to him.

“I had… I had a bit of a late one.”

“Oh, right.”   
  


“Anyway, see you.”

John was about to take his leave but stopped in his tracks when Sarah asked him, “So… What were you doing that kept you up so late?”

John had replied, “I was attending… A sort of book event.”

“Oh, oh. She likes books does she? Your girlfriend?”

“No, it wasn’t a date.”

“Good. I mean um…”

“And… ** _I don’t have one tonight_**.”

* * *

- ** _221B Baker Street_** -

Sherlock was still looking through the books, but still having no such luck in finding the code. Violet sat near the table drinking sparkling water to calm her stomach all the while she was browsing through the internet since Sherlock told her that she couldn’t work the case due to her being sick.

Sherlock turned to the book shelf.

“A book everyone would own.” He said to himself.

He got out a dictionary and a couple of other books from his own bookshelf and looked through pages 15 and 1, but even that didn’t help much since the code didn’t sound right to him. He looked through the other books and they were ultimately the same results.

He put the books to the side and messed with his hair; he sighed in frustration. John had soon entered the flat. Sherlock turned to him and said, “I need to grab some air, we’re going out tonight.”

Violet picked up her head and looked to Sherlock. As if reading her mind, Sherlock said to her, “No, you’re staying here tonight, you’re not feeling well.”

Violet couldn’t help but pout when Sherlock gave her that answer. “Don’t look at me like that, you know it’s for the best.” Sherlock said to her, seeing the look on her face.

John cleared his throat and said, “Actually I have a date tonight.”

Sherlock and Violet were both surprised to hear that from him.

“What?” Sherlock asked him.

John had explained, “Where two people like each other go out and have fun?”

Sherlock gave a quizzical look and said, “Wasn’t I suggesting that?”

“No you weren’t.” John said, “At least I hope you weren’t.”

Violet stifled a laugh which earned a look from her older brother. He than asked John, “Where are you taking her?”

“Er, cinema.” John replied.

Sherlock scoffed at that, “Dull, boring, predictable.”

“Brother, cinema’s aren’t dull.” Violet said, still with a stuffed nose.

“Than explain why you fall asleep whenever you’re at the cinema.” Sherlock said to her.

“This one doesn’t do that!”

“Sure you don’t.”

Sherlock took something from his desk and handed it to John, “Here, why don’t you try this?” He said. John took it from him and saw that it was labeled “Yellow Dragon Circus”. “It’s in London for one night.” John laughed nervously at this.

“Thanks, but I don’t go to you for dating advice.” He said.

* * *

- ** _Later that Night; Yellow Dragon Circus_** -

The very next thing John knew, he was walking down the block next to Sarah; both were on there way to see the circus that Sherlock had so kindly suggested to them. “It’s been years since anyone took me to the circus.” Sarah admitted.

John had chuckled awkwardly, “Right yes.” He said, “A friend recommended it to me actually. I phoned up.”

“Oh!” Sarah said with enthusiasm, “What are they a touring guide or something?”

“I don’t know much about it.” He replied.

They soon approached a building; The first thing they noticed was that there were red lanterns hanging from the wires, and chinese characters.

“I think they’re probably from China.” Sarah said, before laughing.

“I think so too!” John agreed as he smiled, “There’s a coincidence.”

They both went to the front desk to receive their tickets; they were next in line after a teenager wearing a hood and a pair of baggy jeans received their ticket.

“Hi.” John said to the man, “I have two tickets reserved for tonight.”

“And what’s the name?” The man asked him.

“Holmes.” John replied.

The man went to get the tickets and John took out his wallet from his coat pocket. “Actually I have three in that name.” The man said, handing him the three tickets.

John was confused by this, “No I don’t think so, we only booked two.”

“Then I phoned back and got one for myself.”

John was in shock when he saw Sherlock step into up where him and Sarah were. He didn’t expect him to see him there tonight; Honestly he didn’t. He gave a friendly smile to Sarah, “I’m Sherlock.” He said as he stuck his hand out to her.

She laughed awkwardly before taking his hand and shaking it. “Hi nice to meet you.” She said.

“Pleasures all mine.” Sherlock said. John had immediately pulled Sherlock to the side, obviously angry about Sherlock just suddenly showing up unannounced.

“You couldn’t let me have just one night off.” John said angrily.

Sherlock seemed to ignore what he said and said to John, “Yellow Dragon Circus, in London one day. It fits. The Tong sent an assassin to England…”

“Dressed as a tightrope walker?” John said in disbelief, “Come on Sherlock, behave!”

“We’re looking for a killer who can climb, who can shin up a rope. Where would you find that level of dexterity? Exit visas are scarce in China. They need a pretty good reason to get out of the country. Now all I need to do is have a quick look around the place.”

“Am I to be expect to see your little sister around here too?”

“No. I left her back at the flat. She tried to make a big deal out of it, but I convinced her to stay there and get some sleep.”

“Okay, fine. You go and do whatever it is you need to do. I’m gonna take Sarah for a pint.”

John was about to leave but Sherlock grabbed his arm. “I need your help.” He said, “I need someone I can trust to watch my back, since Violet is absent at the moment.”

“I do have a couple of other things on my mind this evening.”

“Like what?”

John just gave him a really look. “You are kidding?” John said, not really believing it.

Sherlock didn’t seem to get it, “What’s so important?”

“Sherlock I’m in the middle of a date!” John said to him, “You’re going to chase some killer while I’m trying to…” John’s words trailed, not really knowing what to say next.

“What?” Sherlock asked him.

John couldn’t help but say aloud, “While I’m trying to get off with Sarah!”

Sarah just happened to come up the stairs; John smiled to her as if nothing happened. “Hey… Ready?” John asked her.

“Yeah.” Sarah had said with a smile.

They proceeded up the stairs and to the auditorium; in the middle of it there was a circle of candles that were lit. Many people that had come to see the circus were standing around them. John had said to Sherlock softly not very impressed, “You said circus, this is not a circus. Look at the size of this crowd. Sherlock this is… art. Violet would’ve loved this.”

“This is not their day job.” Sherlock said to him.

“No I’m sorry, I forgot. They’re not a circus, they’re a gang of international smugglers.” John said.

Soon the sound of drums was heard; it played a soft percussive beat. A woman wearing a chinese dress with make-up and wearing a Phoenix coronet hat upon her head stepped into the middle of the circle. She lifted her hand and the drums had stopped playing and started playing just a single beat of the drum. The woman walked over a stand that had a black tarp. She removed it and it was revealed to be a crossbow stand.

She picked up a large arrow and showed it to the audience so that everyone could see. She than placed it on the crossbow stand and armed. Taking but a simple feather from her hat she placed it in the metal bowl; the minute she did the crossbow fired and the sound of a swoosh it flew to a wooden wall that was placed in the circle. It had startled everyone in the room, excluding Sherlock who was just unphased by it; Everyone clapped.

A man had soon came into the circle; he was dressed in a samurai outfit and wore a mask covering his face. Lifting his arms up, two men came into the circle and proceeded to put chains on the man. They binded his arms and attached him to the wooden wall.

“Classic Chinese escapology art.” Sherlock said, getting the attention of John and Sarah, “The crossbow is on a delicate string. The warrior has to escape his bounds before it fires.”

The woman placed another arrow onto the crossbow, just as the two men were finishing up binding the warrior; The man shouted as the chains were tied around his neck and waist. The beats of the drum had quickened.

A cymbal was then heard, startling Sarah a bit; Her and John couldn’t help but chuckle. She than took a knife from the basket; she showed it to the audience.

“She splits the sandbag, the sand pours out.” Sherlock explained to the two of them, “Gradually, the weight lowers into the bowl.”

She split a hole into the sandbag and the sand had started leak out; a black ball had started to lower itself. The warrior had shouted, and grunted aggressively. With effort he managed to get one of his arms out of the chain; the black ball came closer to the bowl. The warrior managed to get his other arm out and he worked his on getting the chain off of his neck.

The black bowl came ever so closer to the bowl; inching ever so closer until finally it came in contact with the bowl. By the time it the arrow had fired, the warrior had ducked and the arrow missed. Everyone clapped.

“Thank God.” Sarah said.

“My God.” John said with a smile.

Everyone continued to applauded as the warrior bowed. John turned around to talk to Sherlock, only to realize that he was gone.

It turned out Sherlock had snuck out the crowd and had gone backstage or in which case on the stage. As he entered he took a look around; he looked through various drawers and chest. He soon came to a halt when he heard a thump sound. He looked up and was curious to what exactly made that sound. He passed by a samurai costume that was hung up. He realized that whoever made the sound was hiding behind a clothes hanger since he saw evidence that it was moved.

It wasn’t long until he heard a familiar raspy cough. He moved the clothes from where they were and it was revealed to be--

“Violet!?” Sherlock whispered; seeing her in a hoodie and baggy pair of jeans.

She said with a guilty look in her eyes; she removed her hood, “Uh… Hi.”

Outside from the stage the applause still continued until the woman lifted her hand in the air and the applause ceased.

“Ladies and gentlemen.” She said, “From the distant moonlit shores of the Yangtze River, we present, for your pleasure, the deadly Chinese bird spider.” Walking away from the circle, a man wearing a mask came unraveling down with a long red ribbon as the drums started to play; the audience clapped. The music played and the man performed tricks to the people before him.

Meanwhile backstage Sherlock was still stunned at the fact that Violet was there instead of back home; but at the same time, he was angry with her.

“What are you doing here?!” He whispered angrily.

“Violet wanted to help.” She said to him, before covering her mouth when she felt a cough come on; luckily she muffled it.

“Exactly what part of stay home and go to bed do you not understand?!” He said to her.

“But this one wants to--”

“Damn it Violet, you’re just making this harder than it needs to be, you know that! You said to me that you would get some rest after Soo Lin was found!”

“That was before Soo Lin was murdered, when she was trying to protect Violet! This one has to see this through now!”

“Okay, Violet listen, if you th--”

Soon enough they heard the door open backstage, and both of the siblings immediately shut their mouths. Sherlock kneeled down and Violet moved back. The woman from before walked in. “Don’t move.” Sherlock mouthed to Violet; she nodded. Violet had soon stumbled when she felt dizzy and had accidently moving some of the costumes that were hanging on the coat hanger, catching the woman’s attention. Both of the siblings stayed perfectly still. She shook it off and left the backstage, letting the siblings sigh with relief.

She got her brother’s attention by tapping him, “This one found this earlier, before Sherlock came in.” She whispered before showing him a black duffle bag. Sherlock took the bag from Violet and unzipped it. There he saw yellow spray cans with the letter “M” on it.

“Well, well.” He said with a smirk. He stood up and moved from the coat hangers, with Violet close behind him. Using one of the spray cans he used it to make a line on the mirror that was nearby, only confirming to him and Violet that the Circus they were currently in right now was indeed the Black Lotus.

It wasn’t till he saw something out of place through the mirror. The costume that he had passed by earlier, had moved. Sherlock soon saw that he was armed with a weapon.

“Is something wrong?” Violet asked him, not taking notice of it. The man took a swung at them; Sherlock acted fast and pushed his sister out of harm's way surprising her, while he dodged the sword. Outside people saw that the curtains were moving. The man continued to swing and he continued to dodge and block with the help of the spray can he was holding. Sherlock threw punches but the man kicked back. Eventually the man grabbed him by the neck and started to choke him; The attacker dropped his sword.

Sherlock managed to get loose from his grip and used the spray paint can to blind him momentarily; he kicked him to the ground but jumped back up. He kicked Sherlock which sent him flying out of the curtains and into the circle of candles, surprising the audience.

The attacker jumped out from behind the curtains as well causing the audience to panic and run. The attacker was on top of Sherlock but not for long; John went to his aid and charged the attacker causing him to stumble, but the attacker kicked him off.

Violet attacked from behind; she jumped from the stage and kicked him in the back of the head. She tucked and rolled on the floor. The man, the Chinese Bird Spider removed his mask and it was revealed to be Zhi Zhu; he immediately retreated.

The attacker got up and went to Violet. Violet tried to get up, but felt dizzy again and stumbled back on to the floor. Before he could attack her, Sarah came to her aid and attacked him with a stick she found until he passed out. Sherlock managed to recover from his fall and removed the shoe and saw that there was the Black Lotus tattoo, which proved his theory even more.

He got up and grabbed his sister by the arm and helped her to stand. “Come on, let’s go!” He said to John, as he ran out of the building with his sister; John ran out of the building taking Sarah’s hand all the while limping from the attacks he received from earlier.

 


	18. Code Revealed

- ** _New Scotland Yard_** -

After what they had witnessed, they immediately went straight to the man in charge of the case Inspector Detective Dimmock (Again) to tell him what they’ve found.

“I’ve sent a couple of cars down there.” Dimmock said to them, “The old hall is totally deserted.”

“Look, I saw the mark at the circus.” Sherlock said to him, “The tattoo that we saw on the two bodies, the mark of the Tong.”

John had added, “Lukis and Van Coon were a part of a smuggling operation. Now one of them stole something when they were in China.”

“Whatever it was it was something valuable.” Violet had added, “The circus performers were gang members; they were sent here to get it back.”

“Get back what?” Dimmock asked them.

They stood there in silence before John had replied, “We don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Dimmock asked them.

“Not really.” Violet clarified, “All, John, Sherlock, and Violet know is that it’s valuable.”

Dimmock let out a sigh and sat down at his desk, “Mr. Holmes, I’ve done everything you’ve asked. Lestrade seems to think that you and your sister's advice is worth something. I gave the order for a raid. Please tell me I’ll have something to show for it; Other than a massive bill for overtime.”

* * *

- ** _221B Baker Street_** -

Sherlock, John and Violet, along with Sarah went straight back to the flat, to see what else they could find on the smugglers. “They’ll be back in China by tomorrow.” John said to Sherlock as he took off his jacket.

“No.” Sherlock said to him, taking off his coat and scarf and throwing it over the stacks of books, “They won’t leave until they get what they came for. We just need to find their hideout. A rendezvous.”

Violet looked at the pictures, “This one thinks that their hideout their hideout is somewhere in this message.”

Sarah stood at the doorway awkwardly, not really sure of what to do exactly. “Well, I think perhaps I should just leave you to it.” Sarah said.

“No you don’t have to go. You can stay.” John said; Sherlock said at the same time, “Yes, it’d be better if you left now.” John realized what Sherlock had said and then reassured Sarah, “He’s just kidding. Please stay if you like.” Sarah couldn’t help but chuckle awkwardly. “Is it just me, or is anyone else starving?” She asked.

“Oh God.” Sherlock said with a sigh. He than turned to Violet, when he had just remembered something,  “And you.” Violet couldn’t help but laugh awkwardly when she saw the look on his face. “Don’t think that I’ve forgotten about what you did.”

“This one is sorry.” Violet said before sneezing, “But she just had to be there when--”

“Violet for the last time, you’re sick, and you’re not making yourself any better with you just being more involved in this case.” Sherlock told her, “What were to happen, if either John or myself weren’t there?”

Violet opened her mouth to say something, but couldn’t come up with a retort; so instead she just shut her mouth before letting out a sneeze; the only she asked was, “How long is Violet grounded?”

“One month.”

“That’s fair.”

“Off to bed with you.”

“Okay.”

Without saying anything else; she just went to her room leaving only himself, John and Sarah in the living room. A little while later as John was looking to see if he could find anything edible in the fridge Sherlock was looking through the pages to see if he could translate what was on the cipher. Sarah was looking around the flat; curious to what John and Sherlock do in their spare time.

“So this is what you do.” Sarah said to Sherlock, “You, John, and your daughter, you solve puzzles for a living.”

“Consulting detective.” Sherlock said,  “And Violet isn’t my daughter, she’s my sister.”

“Oh.” Sarah said as she nodded. She had then looked over Sherlock’s shoulder; curious to what he was doing. “What are these squiggles?” Sarah asked him.

Sherlock replied, slightly irritated, “They’re numbers. An ancient Chinese dialect.”

“Oh right.” She said, “Well, of course I should have known that.”

John had found crackers and decided to use it as in appetizer. Mrs. Hudson soon came into the flat with a tray of food. “I’ve done punch and a bowl of nibbles.” Mrs. Hudson said.

“Mrs. Hudson, you are a saint.” John said.

Mrs. Hudson placed the food on the table, “If it was Monday I’d have been to the supermarket.” She said.

“Thank you, really.” John said to her.

Sherlock was still having trouble deciphering the Chinese characters while Sarah still looking over his shoulder. Sarah picked up the paper that was in the evidence bag and looked at it with curious eyes. “So these numbers, it’s a cipher?” Sarah asked him.

“Exactly.” Sherlock replied still a bit irritated.

“And each pair of numbers is a word?”  She asked.

That seemed to catch Sherlock’s ear. He was surprised to hear that, especially from a normal person like Sarah. “How did you know that?” Sherlock asked her.

“Well two words have already been translated.” Sarah said, showing Sherlock the photos. He took the picture from her and saw what she meant. “John!” He said getting his attention, “John come look at this!” Sherlock started to remove the picture from the evidence bag. “Soo Lin at the museum! She started to translate the code for us!”  He said, “We just didn’t see it!”

A couple of ciphers that was near the top of the page was translated to “Nine” and  “Mill”.

“Does that mean millions?” John asked curiously.

“Nine million quid.” Sherlock said, “But for what?”

Sherlock then went to grab his coat, “We need to know the end of this sentence.”

“Where are you going?” John asked.

Sherlock had replied, “To the museum, to the restoration room. We must’ve been staring right at it!”

“At what?”

“The book, John! The key to cracking the cipher! Soo Lin used it to translate the cipher, whilst we were running around the gallery and Violet getting distracted, she started to translate the code for us, it must be on her desk. Keep an eye on Violet for me, and don’t tell her where I am if she wakes up!”

With that being said, Sherlock sprinted right down the stairs and out the door. While trying to catch a cab he bumped into a couple that spoke German that forced one of them to drop a book to the floor; the man shouted angrily in German.

“ _Entschuldigen Sie, biette._ ” Sherlock said in German; apologizing to the couple. He handed the book back to him.

“ _Ja, danke_.” The man said aggressively while taking the book back from him.

Sherlock went back to catch a cab again but grunted in frustration when he couldn’t get it. He turned but then he saw something that caught his eye. All of the people that were foreign had a book that was titled “London A to Z”. He thought back to when they were in Lukis flat and Van Coon’s and too Soo Lin’s desk in the restoration room. The three of them had the same book; He was quick to come to a conclusion.

Sherlock quickly ran to the couple, “Please wait! _Biette!_ ”

The couple stopped; and Sherlock caught up he took the book from the man hand’s.

“Hey, _du, was machst du?!_ ” The man shouted.

“Minute!” Sherlock said, to the man, as he started to go through the pages; the man shouted angrily to him. He ended up giving up and walked away with his wife.

“Page 15, entry 1.” Sherlock said to himself, “Page 15 entry 1.” When he turned to the page and the entry 1. He spot the word it had translated.

“ ** _Deadman_**.” He said, “You **_were_** threatening to kill them. That’s the first cipher.” Sherlock got out a the pictures and immediately went to the other pages that had showed the numbers.

“9, 0, 15.” He said, “15 and 36. 36, 39.”

As the detective looked through the pages, he had gotten the next set of words; he started to write down the words on the picture. “Nine, mill for…” He had looked through the other pages which were 70 and 35. The first page contained the word Jade. He went to the next page had contained the word pin.

“Nine mill, for jade pin.” Sherlock had read, “Dragon den, black… **_Tramway_**.”

Sherlock finally cracked the code; he quickly ran down the block to 221B. He entered the flat and ran up the stairs.

“John! John! I got it!” Sherlock shouted as he entered through the kitchen, “The cipher, the book! It’s the London A-Z that they’re use--”

Sherlock stopped in mid-sentence when he saw something familiar. It was the cipher that was first seen at the back. The cipher that was translated to deadman. Both John and Sarah were nowhere to be seen.

“ **VIOLET!** ” He exclaimed. He dropped the book and ran to his sisters room. He swung the door open and saw that Violet wasn’t anywhere in her room where she should be.

Sherlock’s panic and fear rose; Both his sister and friend were kidnapped by the smugglers, the Black Lotus.


	19. The Black Tramway

- **_Earlier; 221B Baker Street_ ** -

 

A couple of ciphers that was near the top of the page was translated to “Nine” and “Mill”.

 

“Does that mean millions?” John asked curiously.

 

“Nine million quid.” Sherlock said, “But for what?”

 

Sherlock then went to grab his coat, “We need to know the end of this sentence.”

 

“Where are you going?” John asked.

 

Sherlock had replied, “To the museum, to the restoration room. We must’ve been staring right at it!”

 

“At what?”

 

“The book, John! The key to cracking the cipher! Soo Lin used it to translate the cipher, whilst we were running around the gallery and Violet getting distracted, she started to translate the code for us, it must be on her desk. Keep an eye on Violet for me, and don’t tell her where I am if she wakes up!”

 

With that being said, Sherlock sprinted right down the stairs and out the door, leaving only John and Sarah alone in the flat. Some time had passed John and Sarah were both unsure of what to do exactly; or for that matter what to eat.

 

“Yeah, no absolutely.” Sarah said, “I mean, well, quiet night in is just what the doctor ordered.”

 

“Ha, ha, ha.” John had chuckled.

 

“I mean I’d love to go out of an evening, and wrestle a few Chinese gangsters, you know generally, but a girl can only take so much.”

 

“Okay. Er, shall we get a takeaway?”

 

“Yeah. That sounds good.”

 

As John called for the takeaway, Sarah continued to look around the flat once more. She found many wooden figures of animals and people in the corner of the flat, and several paintings and drawings of people in different scenarios. The ones that appeared most were of a man and a woman sitting under a tree on top of a hill.

 

Sarah was impressed by the drawings and such.

 

John had just gotten off the phone and noticed Sarah looking at them.

 

Sarah turned him and asked, “That girl… Did she make all of this?”

 

“You mean Violet?” John said, “Yeah, she did. She spends most of her time doing this. She’s quite skilled at it.”

 

“I can see that.” Sarah said before commenting, “They’re beautiful.”

 

One of the pictures seemed to have stood out to Sarah. It was a shadow figure of what appeared to be a wolf and a little girl was drawing scribbles on the wall. “What’s this one about?” Sarah asked John.

 

John looked at the picture. “I’ll admit this is my  first time seeing that one.” He said to her.

 

“Where do you suppose she get’s ideas like this from?”

 

“To be honest I’m not really sure. I think Violet mostly bases it on what she’s feeling emotion wise. At least that’s what Sherlock tells me.”

 

“Violet really does have talent in drawing. I’m surprised that she’s fifteen.”

 

“You’re not the only one who was thinking that when you first met her.”

 

Just than they heard a knock at the door. “Oh, blimey that was quick!” John said, “I’ll just pop down.”

 

“Do you want me to lay the table?” Sarah asked him.

 

“Um… Eat off trays?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

John went down the stairs to answer the door. He opened it to a man in a black hood over his head, “Sorry to keep you.” John said to the man trying to get out his wallet, “How much do you want?”

 

“Do you have it?”

 

John was a bit taken back by this.

 

“What?” John asked.

 

“Do you have the treasure?” The man asked.

 

“I don’t understand.” John said to the man before his world went black before his very eyes.

 

Violet woke up to strange sounds coming down from the hall. Still in her baggy clothing, she got up from bed without bothering to put on her shoes. She opened the door slightly.

 

“Brother?” She said with her voice a bit raspy, “John? What’s all that noise?”

 

She walked down the hall still rubbing her eyes; she had gotten into the living room and was surprised to see that no one was there, not even Sarah. To make matters worse she had found that the living room was a mess.

 

“What the--?”  


She turned around and saw familiar symbols painted on the windows. Her eyes widened in horror when she saw this.

 

All of sudden, she felt someone grab her from behind; before she could scream, and hand with a handkerchief came over her mouth and nose. She was forced to inhale chloroform. Her head started to become dizzy the more she kept inhaling; and it didn’t help that she was sick. The list thing she saw was the man that killed Soo Lin instead of her, Zhi Zhu.

* * *

 

 - **_Later_ ** -

 

John felt himself slowly came too; the first thing he saw was torches and they were in a dark place of some kind. When his vision became clear he saw Sarah was next to him, tied up and her mouth had a makeshift gag on her mouth.

 

“John…”

 

John turned to his left and saw Violet; her skin was pale and her eyes were half open. She was even worse than before.

 

“Violet!” John exclaimed, “Violet are you alright?”

 

“John…” Violet said, “... This one doesn’t feel to good… She feels sleepy… The world is spinning… She wants it to stop…”

 

“Violet stay with me alright! Just--!”

 

Soon enough a woman was heard talking to him.

 

“A book like a magic garden, carried in your pocket.” She said.

 

Out of the darkness; it was revealed a woman with short black hair and dark shades; the very same woman that John had seen across the street from 221B. She walked over to him, and removed her glasses revealing her brown eyes.

 

“Chinese proverb, Mr. Holmes.” The woman said to John.

 

Wait a minute? Mr. Holmes? Did she think that John was Sherlock? Really him? He saw that Violet had a certain look on her face; he could swear that she was laughing on the inside.

 

He than said to the lady, “I’m… I’m not Sherlock Holmes.”

 

“Forgive me if I do not take your word for it.” She said to him. She reached into his jacket and pulled out his wallet. She opened his wallet, “Debit card, name of S. Holmes.”

 

“Yes, that’s not actually mine.” John said to her, “He lent it to me.”

 

“And a cheque for £5,000 made out in the name of Mr. Sherlock Holmes.” The woman added.

 

“Yeah, he gave me that to look after.” John half-lied since Sherlock wanted nothing to do with the check.

 

The woman had also added, “Tickets from the theatre collected by you, name of Holmes.”

 

“Yeah okay, I realise what this looks like, but trust me when I say, I’m not him.”

 

“We heard it from your own mouth.”

 

“What?”

 

“ _I am Sherlock Holmes and I always work alone. Because no one can compete with my massive intellect._ ”

 

Violet couldn’t help but roll her eyes at this while John sat there dumbfounded. “Did I really say that?” John asked, before saying to the woman, “I suppose there’s no use me trying to persuade you I was doing an impression.”

 

The woman than held up a small pistol to John; Of course his first instinct was to back away, since to move away but was restricted from doing so since he was tied up. John gave out a shaky breath.

 

Violet had then said to the woman, still feeling very tired, “Is… This one to assume… That you’re … The leader of… The Black Lotus?”

 

The woman smiled to her and said, “You are correct. **_I am Shan_ **.”

 

John did a double take, “You’re… You’re Shan?” He said with disbelief.

 

“Three times we tried to kill you, your daughter, and your companion  Mr. Holmes.” The woman named Shan said, “What does it tell you when an assassin cannot shoot straight?”

 

John couldn’t answer her question; Violet wanted to answer for him, but she could barely keep her eyes open as it is.

 

Shan armed the gun causing John to panic and attempt to move away from her. He saw her index finger move to the trigger and he couldn’t help but stutter. When she pulled the trigger all John heard was a click; he sighed with relief.

 

“It tells you that they’re not even trying.” Shan said to him.

 

“Violet… Could’ve told you that…” Violet said with barely any energy in her voice earning a look from her captors.

* * *

 

 - **_221B Baker Street_ ** -

 

Sherlock went to the bookshelf to get a map. When he found it, he got the map and placed it on the coffee table. He had to find the Black Tramway, where they keeping them; John, Sarah and his sister Violet. He had to find it before something horrible were to happen to them.

 

He followed the yellow road until he found the tunnel that was Kingsway; the place where they would most likely be, no, they’re were going to be. Sherlock knew this much; After getting the information he needed, he ran out of the flat to go get a cab.

* * *

 

 - **_The Black Tramway_ ** -

 

Shan had filled the gun with ammo, and John was scared when he saw this; she armed the gun again. “Not blank bullets now.” Shan said.

 

John gave out a shaky breath, “Okay.”

 

“If we wanted to kill you Mr. Holmes, we would have done it by now.” Shan said, “We just wanted to make you inquisitive. Do you have it?”

 

John looked at her questioningly, “Do I have what?”

 

“The treasure.” Shan clarified.

 

John replied, with his voice a bit shaky, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

“I’d prefer to make certain.” Shan said. She motioned the men to remove a cloak. When they did, it was revealed to be a crossbow. John, Sarah and Violet’s eyes widened at this.

 

“Everything in the West has its price.” Shan said. “And the price starting with your daughter's life, information.”

 

Two men went over to Violet; she started to struggle when they lifted her off the ground. “No! Violet!” John exclaimed.

 

Violet had struggled as they placed her right in front of the crossbow. Before she could could scream they tied her mouth shut; she could only let out muffled screams. Despite her being sick she tried her best to get out of the restraints letting her wrists turn red. As she did; her whole world had started to change again. She found herself in front of a beast covered in darkness growling at her in a cage and around it were several monsters all bearing fangs and claws as sharp as a knife and their eyes glowed a burning red color. Violet had started to panic as she continued to struggle in the restraints.

 

John saw the look on her face; she was going through an episode just like before.

 

“Where’s the hairpin?” Shan asked him still pointing the gun at him.

 

“What are you talking about?” John said, trying to get himself out of the restraints.

 

Shan said, “The Empress pin valued at nine million sterling? We already had a buyer in the West and then one of our people was greedy, he took it, brought it back to London, and you, Mr. Holmes, have been searching.”

 

“Please, please. Listen to me.” John begged as he continued to struggle, “I’m not… I’m not Sherlock Holmes, you have to believe me! I haven’t found whatever it is you’re looking for!”

 

Shan still didn’t take his word for it, “I need a volunteer from the audience.”

 

“No please!” John exclaimed when he realized what was about to happen, “Leave her alone!”

 

Shan walked over to Violet who had started to struggle even harder when she approached her. “Ah, thank you young lady.” Shan said, “Yes, you’ll do very nicely.”

 

Shan pulled out a knife and cut a hole in a brown bag; the sand had started to pour out and the bag had begun to lower itself. In the young teens eyes, Violet had seen cage door lift slowly and the creature reaching out for her, as the sand in the timer began to go to the bottom.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen.” Shan said, “From the distant moonlit shores of NW1, we present for your viewing pleasure, Sherlock Holmes pretty little daughter, in a death defying back.”

 

“ **PLEASE!** ” John shouted to her, “ **LET HER GO!** ”

 

As Violet continued to thrash about Shan had gotten out a small black flower made from paper out of her pocket and placed it on Violet’s lap; from Violet’s point of view, she had placed a black rose onto her lap. Shan had said to Violet; not realizing that she was going through an episode, “You’ve already seen the act before. How dull for you child. You know how it ends.”

 

John shouted once more, “ **I’M NOT SHERLOCK HOLMES!** ”

 

“I don’t believe you.” Shan said with a glare.  

 

Soon enough a voice echoed throughout the tramway.

 

“You should, you know.”

 

It had turned it was Sherlock, coming to rescue. It’s about time John thought in his head. Violet seemed to have calmed down a bit when she heard her brother's voice. Shan turned and armed her gun and pointed towards the direction of the voice. One of her men went to go to see if he could capture Sherlock

 

“Sherlock Holmes is nothing at all like him.” Sherlock said as he moved himself out of view of the line of fire, “How would you describe me John? Resourceful? Dynamic? Enigmatic?”

 

“Late?” John said.

 

Sherlock then said to Shan, “That’s a semi-automatic. If you fire it, the bullet will travel at over 1,000 meters per-second.”

 

“Well?” Shan said.

 

“Well…” Sherlock said to her before knocking out her comrade with a metal pipe he found, “...The radius of these walls is nearly four meters. If you miss, the bullet will ricochet. Could hit anyone… Might even bounce off the tunnel and hit you.”

 

With a sprint, Sherlock kick down one of the metal barrels putting out the fire leaving Shan blind; seeing that she was unable to see where he was she decided to make her retreat. Soon enough Sherlock was right behind Violet and started to untie her from her restraints; he was soon interrupted when Zhi Zhu attacked him from behind. He rapped a red silk scarf around his neck and started to choke. Violet shouted her brothers name but it was of course muffled.

 

Sherlock struggled to fight against Zhi Zhu; he did his best to get out of the grip of the rope.

 

Violet saw the black ball slowly start to get closer and closer to the bowl; her world and reality started to switch back and forth and Violet became paralyzed with fear; at that point she couldn’t tell what was real and what wasn’t.

 

John saw that time was running out and started to move himself still tied from the chair; he tripped and fell over on his side. The ball had gotten closer and closer to the bowl. John struggled to move himself closer to the weapon as the ball was just inches away from the weapon. At the very last second John kicked the weapon forcing it to turn; the ball had touch the bowl slightly and instead of hitting Violet, it had hit Zhi Zhu, instantly killing him.

 

Sherlock caught his breath and got the rope off of his neck. Seeing that Shan already made her retreat he went to his sister to snap her back into reality.

 

“Violet!” Sherlock said, patting her cheek, “Violet snap out of it!’

 

Violet seemed to have come back to reality when Sherlock had seen the relief in her eyes. Seeing this, Sherlock proceeded to get the restraints off of her. Violet seemed to have felt drowsy again but still had a relieved look in her eyes seeing her brother.

 

“Stay here.” Sherlock said to her.

 

All Violet did was nod her head. Sherlock then went ahead to untie the others starting with Sarah who was still trembling and whimpering. “It’s all right.” He reassured her while he was removing her restraints, “You’re going to be alright, it’s over now.”

 

As Sarah started to cry, John turned her and reassured her by saying, “Don’t worry. Next date won’t be like this.”

 

A little while later, the police came to see what had happened. John walked out of the tramway beside Sarah was wrapped in a blanket, and Sherlock had carried Violet out, who was also wrapped in a blanket to protect her from the cold. She was taking deep breaths since her fever had gotten worse due to the fact that she was drugged and she was exposed from the cold too long; her face was flushed with red and she was sweating a bit.

 

Sherlock went over to Dimmock and said, “We’ll just slip off. No need to mention us in your report.”

 

“Mr. Holmes…” Dimmock try to say to him but was cut off.

 

“I have high hopes for you Inspector.” He said, “I’m sure Violet has high hopes for you too. A glittering career.”

 

“I go where you point me.” Dimmock said to him.

 

“Exactly.” Sherlock said with a smirk; with that  he walked away with his little sister in his arms.


	20. Loose Ends

- **_The Next Morning_ ** -

 

Already a day had passed since they bought an end to the case. John was pouring himself coffee while Sherlock was getting a meal together for his sister to eat; whether she liked it or not. He was trying to put together a bowl of porridge or at least was trying to. 

 

“So…” John said, “Nine mill.”

 

“Million.” Sherlock clarified before going to double check the recipe of the porridge to see if he had gotten it right. 

 

“Million yes.” John said, “Nine million for jade pin. Dragon den, Black Tramway.” 

 

After Sherlock was sure he had gotten the ingredients ready, he put it onto a skillet and set the stove to medium. “It was an instruction to all their London operatives.” He said while setting a timer, “A message; they were trying to reclaim it.” 

 

“What? A jade pin?” John asked. 

 

“Worth nine million pounds.” Sherlock said to him getting medicine from a nearby cabinet, “Bring it to the Tramway, their hideout.

 

John honestly had his doubts about that, “Hold on, a hairpin worth nine million pounds?” 

 

“Apparently.” 

 

“Why was it worth so much?” 

 

“It depends on who owned it.” 

 

The timer soon went off and Sherlock went ahead to put the porridge into a bowl and placed it on a tray along with some medicine. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cook before.” John said to Sherlock. “Shut up.” Sherlock said to him. 

 

Lifting the tray, he proceeded over to Violet’s room; John followed. She was laying in bed against propped up pillows so that she was sitting up comfortably, and was playing a puzzle on her phone. 

 

“Violet, it’s time for breakfast.” Sherlock said to her. 

 

“This one doesn’t want any.” Violet said to him, not taking her eyes off the screen. 

 

“Don’t start with that.” He said placing the tray on a nearby table, “You need to eat something in order to take the medicine.” 

 

“She doesn’t want medicine it always tastes funny.” Violet told him. 

 

John had said to Violet, “Look if you want to get better you have to take the medicine. I’m a doctor so I should know.” 

 

“She’ll still feels sick if she does take it.” Violet said. 

 

Sherlock and John didn’t know what to do at this point. Violet was being stubborn as usual; she didn’t want to eat and she didn’t want to take any of her medicine. John soon saw a smile on Sherlock’s face; he knew he thought of an idea. “You know I heard say something awful about your art.” 

 

Violet flinched at this. 

 

“Yeah, someone said that they said it was so bad that a five year old, no a toddler could do it.” Sherlock said to her. 

 

Violet was about to say something but found that was a mistake when she had her mouth wide open; Sherlock saw his opportunity. He stuck the spoonful of porridge that also had medicine in it right into her mouth. She couldn’t help but swallow it. When Sherlock pulled back the spoon, Violet made a disgusted look; John couldn’t help but laugh at her expression and Sherlock chuckled slightly at that. 

 

“Oh come on, it didn’t kill you.” Sherlock said. 

 

After a few moments Violet couldn’t help but smack her lips. 

 

“This is actually good.” Violet said, “Who made this?” 

 

“Sherlock made it for you actually.” John said to her. Violet looked at Sherlock questioningly and Sherlock’s face turned red at this. 

 

Violet smiled at him, “This one thanks Sherlock for making this for her.” 

 

Sherlock stuttered as he said, “Well, it was my first time making a bowl of porridge, so… I’m glad that you like it.” 

 

Violet let out a sigh and said, “This one can eat a little bit of it. It couldn’t hurt.” 

 

“Well that’s good news.” John said. 

 

“Again, don’t take laxatives later.” Sherlock said to her. 

 

“Kay.” Violet said to him, as she started to eat the porridge.

* * *

 

- **_Later_ ** -

 

Sherlock and John had both arrived to the bank where the case had first began; only difference was that Violet couldn’t come along with them this since she still had a fever. They were just entering the bank; Sherlock said to John, “Two operatives based in London. They travel over to Dalian to smuggle those vases. One of them helps himself to something: a little hairpin.” 

 

“Worth nine million pounds.” John added. 

 

Sherlock said, “Eddie Van Coon was the thief. He  **_stole_ ** the treasure when he was in China.” 

 

“How do you know it was Van Coon and not Lukis?” John asked him, “Even the killer didn’t know that.”

 

“Because of the soap.” Sherlock replied, leaving John confused. 

 

Amanda was seen typing away on her computer. Soon enough her phone started to ring and she was quick to answer it. “Amanda.” She said. 

 

Sherlock’s voice was heard over the phone. “ _ He bought you a present _ .” 

 

“Oh it’s you again.” Amanda said. 

 

“ _ He got you a little gift from China. _ ” Sherlock said. 

 

Amanda asked him, “How do you know that?” 

 

His voice was then heard from behind her, “You were more than just his P.A were you?” 

 

Amanda turned and saw him just enter her office; she hung up her phone. “Someone’s been gossiping.” Amanda said. 

 

“No, I didn’t hear about it from gossip.” Sherlock said. 

 

Amanda gave a quizzical look to him, “Then I don’t understand. How did you--” 

 

“The scented hand cream in his apartment.” Sherlock answered cutting her off, “Three hundred millimeters of it, but almost finished.” 

 

“Sorry?” She frowned with confusion. 

 

Sherlock had explained, “I don’t think Eddie Van Coon was the type of chap to buy himself handsoap--Not unless he had a lady coming over. And it’s the same brand as that hand cream there on your desk.” 

 

Sherlock pointed towards the bottle of hand cream on just sitting on her desk. Amanda sighed, and said, “Look it wasn’t serious between us. It was over in a flash. It couldn’t last--He was my boss.” Sherlock cocked his head to the side. “What happened?” He asked, “Why did you end it?”

 

Amanda explained sadly, “I thought he didn’t appreciate me. Took me for granted. Stood me up once too often--We’d plan to go away for the weekend and then he just left; fly off to China at a moment's notice.”

 

“And then he bought you a present from abroad to say sorry.” Sherlock said. His gaze was soon focused on the pin; it was small and green with a shade of jade. 

 

“Can I…” He started to ask, “Can I just have a look?” He held out his hand to her and ultimately she handed him the pin. 

 

At that moment, Sebastian was writing a £20,000 check, addressed to Sherlock since the case was solved. He looked up to John who was standing in his office. “He really climbed up onto a balcony?” Sebastian asked with disbelief. 

 

John had replied, “Nail a plank across the window and all your problems will be over.” 

 

Sebastian placed the check in the envelope and handed it over to John. “Thanks.” Was all John said to him.

 

Outside of the office, Amanda gave a quick brief explanation to where Van Coon had gotten the pin from. “Said he bought off a street market.” She said. 

 

Sherlock took a closer look at the pin in his hand, “Oh, I don’t think  **_that’s_ ** true.” He said, “I think he pinched it.” 

 

Amanda chuckled at that, “Yeah, that’s Eddie.”

 

Sherlock placed the pin on her desk and asked, “Didn’t know what it’s value was; just thought it would suit you.”

 

Amanda leaned forward in her seat and asked, “Oh? What’s it worth?”

 

Sherlock smirked to her and replied with a slow voice, “Nine… Million… Pounds.”

 

Amanda’s face at that point was filled complete and utter shock. She was at a loss of words at this. “Oh my God!!” She exclaimed as she staggered backwards standing up from her seat. Sherlock grinned at her reaction; she looked to him and clearly saw that he wasn’t kidding. She ran out of the room, shouting nine million with a high pitch voice and acted hysterical

* * *

 

- **_Three Days Later_ ** -

 

Three days had came and went and things to have stayed quiet. Violet was starting to feel a little better from her illness and things to have slipped back to normal, or by their own standards anyway. Sherlock wore a blue dressing gown over his shirt and trousers while Violet wore a white flannel nightgown with a pair of grey slippers and a black hoodie over her shoulders. Sherlock sat at the his work desk with John sitting across from him, while Violet sat at her bean bag chair with her laptop and an art tablet. She was putting finishing touches on picture that was of Soo Lin Yao, but she had angelic wings on her back.

 

The detective was looking at the newspaper with the headline being, “ **_Who Wants to be a Million Hair?_ ** ” He had folded the newspaper he was currently reading and started to read another one. 

 

“This whole time she had a nine million pound hairpin, and she lets it sit by her desk at her bedside.” John said. 

 

“It’s like brother said.” Said Violet, “Van Coon didn’t of the pins value. He didn’t even know why Shan’s men were chasing him.” 

 

“Should've stocked with the Lucky Cat if you ask me.”  John jokes. Violet laughs slightly at this while Sherlock smirked. Violet stopped drawing for a moment and looked to her brother, “Does Sherlock mind it?”

 

“Hm?” Sherlock asked her, “Mind what?”

 

“General Shan.” Violet said, “The one that got away.”

 

“It’s not enough that we had gotten her two henchmen.” John added. 

 

Sherlock said to the both of them, “It’s a vast network; thousands of operatives. We’ve only barely scratched the surface.”

 

“But Sherlock cracked the code.” Violet said, “Maybe Dimmock can track down others with it.”

 

“Yeah, she has a good point.” John said. 

 

Sherlock shook his head, “No, I’ve only cracked  **_this_ ** code. All the smugglers need to do is pick up another book.” 

 

Sherlock opened the newspaper he was holding and started reading it, while Violet went back to work on her drawing. John turned his attention to the window and from the outside he saw a young man wearing a hooded jacket and cap outside walking over to a tall black box that was across the street. He placed a bag he was carrying on the ground and looked around, making sure that he wasn’t seen. He than lifts a spray can and sprays a tag on the black box; most likely it was his own tag. When he was finished he had left with a quick pace before he was seen. 

 

John had a thoughtful look on his face and Sherlock continued to read a certain article in the newspaper oblivious to what had happened outside. 

 

Violet was done with her picture. When she was, she saved it on her laptop and then submitted the picture on a website called DeviantArt. 

 

Almost immediately after she posted the picture; someone had already added the picture to favorites.

* * *

 

- **_Meanwhile_ ** -

 

Shan was sitting in a room with a single computer sitting in front of her; she appeared to be talking to someone via video chat. The only thing was her image was being transmitted to whomever she was talking to while the there was no image; the only thing that was known was the letter “M”. 

 

“Without **_you_ ** \--Without  **_your_ ** assistance--we would not have found passage into London. You have my thanks.” Shan said sounding very humble. 

 

The person on the line typed a response. 

 

“ _ M: GRATITUDE IS MEANINGLESS. IT IS ONLY THE EXPECTATION OF FURTHER FAVORS. _ ”

 

Shan said, gulping fearfully as she did, “We did not anticipate… We did not know  **_they_ ** would come. This--Sherlock and Violet Holmes. And now your safety has been compromised.” 

 

Soon enough, the person responded again. 

 

“ _ M: THEY CANNOT TRACE THIS BACK TO ME. _ ”

 

Shan had then said sincerely to him, “I will not reveal your identity.”

 

The person responded. 

 

“ _ M: I AM  _ **_CERTAIN_ ** _ YOU WON’T. _ ”

 

And that was the last thing the person had wrote before a red dot appeared in the middle of Shan’s forehead; a gunshot had soon echoed through the quiet of the night. 


	21. Bored!

- **_10 Years Ago; Countryside_ ** -

 

_In the backyard of a house made of stone, with its walls covered in vines, there sat a little girl no more than 5, with long black hair and wearing a white dress was sitting on one of the benches scribbling a drawing with some crayon. She was humming to herself and swinging her legs as she drew the picture; she had a big smile on her face._

 

_She was excited today; Today was the day her mother was coming home from going on tour in America. Her mother was a singer who would travel a lot. She was hardly at home, but that was alright. She knew she loved her, and thought of her and her father everyday while she was away. In return the little girl loved her, as much as her father._

 

_The picture she was drawing was a welcome home present for her mother after being away for about a month._

 

_She heard someone approach her from behind. It was of course her father._

 

_“Violet! There you are.” He said, “So this is where you’ve been?”_

 

_The little one named Violet turned to her father. “Hi daddy!”_

 

_“What on earth are you doing sitting out here?”_

 

_“Violet was just drawing a picture for mummy!”_

 

_Violet showed the picture to her father which much pride. It was of three people, most likely it was of just the three of them; his wife, himself and daughter. It was all colorful, the sky was blue and the grass was green. Three of the people were standing under a tree, all three of them had a smile on their faces._

 

_“What does daddy think?” Violet asked, “Did Violet do a good job?”_

 

_The father smiled and patted her on the head, “Of course you did a good job sweetheart. I’m sure your mother will love it too.”_

 

_“Does daddy really think so?”_

 

_“Daddy doesn’t think, he knows. Now go on and grab your coat so we can meet her at the airport.”_

 

_“Okay!”_

 

_Violet stood up from the back porch and practically skipped towards the coat hanger. She grabbed her coat which was in her favorite color purple and put it on without delay. Her father met her right at the front door and they both went outside and into the car._

* * *

 

- **_Present; Minsk Belarus_ ** -

 

Sherlock and his younger sister Violet sat in a prison visitors room; She sat next to the seat beside her brother drawing whatever she thought in her small sketchbook, while Sherlock himself had his attention on another man--One of the prisoners who had sat across from the siblings. A guard stood at a distance; prepared for whatever might happen between the prisoner and the visitors.

 

“Just tell me what happened.” Sherlock said to him, “From the beginning.”

 

The prisoner replied with hesitation, “We’d been to a bar--a nice place--and, er, I got chattin’ with one of the waitresses, and Karen weren’t ‘appy with that… When we got back to the ‘otel, we end up havin’ a bit of a ding dong, don’t we?”

 

Sherlock sighed out deliberately, stopping the prisoner with telling his story. This confused the prisoner but he continued anyway, “She was always gettin’ at me, sayin’ I weren’t a real man.”

 

“ **_Wasn’t_ ** a real man.” Violet suddenly said, not taking her eyes off her sketchbook.

 

The prisoner turned to her giving her a look of confusion. “What?” He said, not quite hearing her.

 

Violet still not taking her eyes off her sketchbook had replied, “Berwick is saying it wrong. It’s not **_weren’t_ ** ; It’s **_wasn’t_ **.”

 

“Oh.” Was all the prisoner named Berwick said.

 

“Please, continue.” Sherlock said to Berwick, “Don’t let her stop you.”

 

Berwick cleared his throat and continued with his story, “Well then, I dunno how it happened, but suddenly, there’s a knife in my hands. And you know, me old man was a butcher, so I know how to handle knives.”

 

Sherlock looked down at Berwick’s hands that were resting on the table. They were starting to shake as he continued.

 

“He learned us, how to cut up a beast.” Berwick said.

 

“ **_Taught._ ** ” Sherlock corrected this time.

 

“What?” Berwick said, at this point getting irritated.

 

“ **_Taught_ ** you how to caught up a beast.” He clarified for him.

 

“Yeah well.” Berwick continued, before gulping, “Then--then I done it.”

 

“Did it.” Violet said.

 

“ **DID IT!** ” Berwick shouted losing his temper; he slammed his hands on the table as he spoke, “ **STABBED HER!** Over and over, and over… And I looked down and she weren’t…”

 

Sherlock turned away, while Violet looked at him with her eyebrow raised.

 

Berwick controlled himself, “ **_Wasn’t_ **. Wasn’t moving no more.” Sherlock turned to him and gave an annoyed look, while Violet shook her head slightly. “Anymore.” He corrected. Berwick lowered his head and let out a shaky breath. He started to twiddle his thumbs nervously as he said softly, “You’ve gotta help me. I dunno how it happened, but it was accident. I swear.”

 

Sherlock gotten up from the table and motioned for Violet to follow; she took his hand and they both proceeded to the door. “You gotta help me Mr. Holmes!” Berwick begged; Both of them stopped in their tracks.

 

“Everyone is saying that you and your sister are the best.” Berwick said, “Without you both, I’ll get hung for this.”

 

Sherlock turned to him, “No, no, no, Mr. Berwick, not at all.” He said, while looking away thoughtfully for a second, “ **_Hanged_ **. Yes.” Sherlock quirked a smile to the man before leaving the visitors room with his sister by his side.

* * *

 

- **_10 Years Ago;  International London Airport_ ** -

 

_Violet couldn’t hold still for just one second, throughout the whole hour her and her father were waiting she couldn’t help but feel excited about her mother coming home. She was just bouncing where she stood; though it wasn’t like she couldn’t help it._

 

_She held on her dad’s hand as she bounced where she stood. “Violet come on.” Her father said, “Don’t move around like that.”_

 

_“Violet can’t help it!” The little one said with excitement, “Violet’s excited to see mummy!”_

 

_“I know you are cupcake.” Her father said, “I know, but…” Just than a familiar voice came over them._

 

_“Micheal! Violet!”_

 

_They both turned to see a young beautiful woman with long black hair  wearing a magenta v neck shirt with a pair of jeans._

 

_Violet let go of her father's hand and ran towards her with her arms wide open._

 

 _“_ **_MUMMY!_ ** _” She shouted grabbing her leg, “Got your leg! Violet’s got your leg!”_

 

_The woman--Her mother chuckled and got her off her leg. She kneeled down and hugged her. “I’m so happy to see you Violet.” The mother said kissing her on the top of the head, “Were you good while mummy was away?”_

 

_Violet looked up and smiled while she nodded, “Violet’s been extra good! Like Violet promised!”_

 

_“That’s my good little girl.” She said with a smile._

 

_Her father named Michael walked over to the two of them. “You should’ve heard her the past month Cathy.” Michael said, “She wouldn’t stop talking about you.”_

 

_“I’ll bet.” The woman named Cathy said to her husband. She stood up and they both exchanged in a hug and a kiss. “But seriously, it’s really good to see you love. Did you have a good trip?”_

 

_“Yes, but I much rather be here than anywhere else.” Cathy replied._

 

_Michael soon thought of something, “Oh right, before I forget, Violet has something for you.”_

 

_“Really? What is it?” Cathy asked her daughter._

 

_Violet took out from behind her back which was the picture she drew earlier, “Look mummy! It’s us, under our favorite picnic spot!”_

 

_Cathy looked at it and smiled; she took the  picture and took it from her daughter's small hand. “Does mummy like it?”_

 

_She kneeled back down to pick her up and hold her in her arms. She kissed her on the forehead, “Mummy loves it. Your turning into quite the artist, just like your father.”_

 

_“I could’ve told you that.” Michael said._

 

_With that, the three of them walked out of the airport, and went back to there home._

* * *

 

- **_Present_ ** -

 

A gunshot was heard throughout the small flat. Sherlock sat in his armchair wearing a grey short sleeved shirt and black pj pants with his blue housecoat on, while Violet sat pretzel style in her beanbag chair wearing her white flannel nightgown and black hoodie having her attention to the wall that had a smile face painted yellow; there appeared to be small bullet holes around the face.

 

Sherlock appeared to have a pistol, holding it lazily in his hand.

 

“Violet’s turn.” She said to her brother with a bored expression. Sherlock the gun over to her. She took the gun and pointed over to the wall. She started to fire it over to the wall hitting the face. Just as she did this John came running up the stairs; covering his ears while he did this.

 

“ **WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TWO DOING!?** ” John shouted to the siblings.

 

“Bored.” Violet replied sulkling.

 

John squinted in disbelief, “What?”

 

“ **BORED!** ” Sherlock shouted. He got up from his seat and took the gun from his sister's hand.

 

John had immediately recoiled and went to cover his ears as Sherlock started to fire with his right hand and then behind his back.

 

“ **BORED!** ” Sherlock had shouted angrily, “ **BORED!** ”

 

As he bought his arm back around, John ran in the room and took the gun from his hand. He slides the clip out and Sherlock walked towards the sofa while Violet stood up and took a seat at the sofa.

 

“Don’t know what’s got into the criminal classes.” Sherlock said with sulkiness in his voice, “Good thing Violet and I aren’t one of them.”

 

John went to lock the pistol away in a small safe just under the dining table. “So you two just take it out on the wall?”

 

“The wall was asking for it.” Violet simply stated. Sherlock laid back on the couch, his head resting in Violet’s lap; she didn’t really mind it. She rested her arm on the arm provided on the couch and leaned in with her hand.

 

John removed his coat and asked them, “What about the Russian case?”

 

Sherlock made himself comfortable on the couch as he replied, “Belarus. Open and shut murder not worth our time.”

 

“Ah, shame.” John couldn’t help but say sarcastically. He walked into the kitchen, seeing many wooden sculpture figures  of different animals, looking just as bored as the two Holmes siblings were. Not only that but their was a lab all set up, no doubt they belonged to Sherlock. John threw his arm in disrepair seeing the kitchen in a complete mess. He made his way to the fridge.

 

“Anything in?” He asked, “I’m starving.”

 

He opened the fridge door and saw--

 

“ **OH F--!!** ” He said before shutting the fridge. After getting his mind together he opened the fridge again; he saw that there was a head inside the fridge. All John could do was stare it not really believing what he saw. He closed the fridge again.

 

“It’s a head.” He mumbled before he shouted, “ **IT’S A HEAD!** ”

 

“Just tea for me thanks.” Sherlock said, pretty much ignoring what John said.

 

“Violet would like some warm milk as usual.” Violet said.

 

“No there’s a head in the fridge!” John said walking back into the living room.

 

“Yes?” Sherlock said calmly.

 

“A bloody head!” John said again.

 

Violet simply asked, “Where else was brother supposed to put it?”

 

“You don’t mind do you?” Sherlock asked turning his head to him. He than explained why exactly he had a head in the fridge, “I got it from Bart’s Morgue. I’m measuring coagulation of saliva after death.”

 

John sat down in the arm chair heaving out a sigh. “Violet and brother see that John has written up the taxi driver case.” Violet said him. John threw one last glance to the fridge and said, “Uh… Yes.”

 

“A Study in Pink.” Sherlock said, “Nice.”

 

John scratched the back of his head and said, “Well, you know, pink lady, pink case, pink phone-- there was a lot of pink. Did you both like it?” Sherlock took a magazine from the coffee table and started to flip through the pages. “No.” The Holmes siblings said in unison.

 

John seem to be surprised to hear that from the both of them, “Why not? I thought you would be flattered. Well at least you Violet.”

 

“Flattered?” Sherlock asked; he let the magazine rest on his stomach. He raised his finger and quoted from the blog, “ **_Sherlock and Violet sees through everything and everyone in seconds. What’s incredible though is how spectacularly ignorant they both are about things._ ** ”

 

“Now hang on.” John said, “I didn’t mean it like--”

 

Violet caught him off by saying, “Oh, so John meant **_spectacularly ignorant_ ** in a good way? And this one supposes that John meant that **_Violet can be even more ignorant than her brother when she wants to be_ ** in a nice way too.”

 

“Violet, I’m serious I didn’t mean to put it like that.” John said.

 

Sherlock gave out a sigh and said, “Look it doesn’t matter to me or Violet who’s Prime Minister, or who’s sleeping with who…”

 

“Whether the Earth goes around the sun.” John added.

 

“Oh, not that again.” The detective groaned, “It’s **_NOT_ ** important.”

 

“Not impor--” John repeated before saying to him, “It’s primary school stuff, how can you not know that? Even Violet knows that!”

 

“If brother did know it, he probably deleted it by now.” Violet stated, “As he always does when it comes to things like primary school stuff.”

 

“Delete it?” John said with disbelief.

 

Sherlock removed himself from Violet’s lap and sat himself on the couch looking over to John. “Listen.” He said before pointing to his head, “This is my hard drive. And it only make sense for me to put things in here that are useful. Really useful! All these other people fill their heads with all kinds of rubbish, and that makes it hard to get all the stuff that matters! I’ve been trying to tell my sister that for years and she still doesn’t seem to get it!”

 

John and Violet both looked at Sherlock dumbfounded by this. “But it’s the solar system!!” Violet and John said in unison.

 

Sherlock groaned, “Gah! Hell! What does that matter?!” He said to the two of them, “So we go round the Sun! If we went round the Moon, or round and round the garden like a teddy bear, it wouldn’t make a difference! All that matters to me is the work! Without that my brain rots. Put that on your blog, or better yet, stop inflicting your opinions on the rest of the world.”

 

Shoving the magazine away angrily he turned away; he curled up into a ball just on the opposite side of where Violet sat. “Brother is being mean.” Violet stated as she sat pretzel style on the couch. John had then stood up and went to grab his coat; Sherlock picked up his head and raised his eyebrow.

 

“Where’s John going?” Violet asked curiously.

 

“Out.” John replied, “I need some air.”

 

He had headed down the stairs; bumping into Mrs. Hudson as he did. As he apologized Sherlock turned away still feeling a bit angry; John had exited the flat in a huff. “I can feel you glaring.” Sherlock said to his sister not turning to her.

 

“This one knows that brother didn’t like the blog as much Violet did, but he didn’t have to go that far.” Violet said to him, “Now he made John runoff.”

 

Sherlock didn’t say nothing to her, all he did was let out a groan again. Mrs. Hudson knocked at the door, and the siblings both turned to him. She was carrying a couple of shopping bags as she walked into the flat. “Have you two have a bit of a domestic?” Mrs. Hudson asked as she entered the kitchen.

 

Sherlock stood up from the couch and walked over to the window. He watched John as he crossed the street.

 

“Oooh it’s a bit nippy out there.” Mrs. Hudson said obviously talking about John, “He should’ve wrapped himself up a bit more.”

 

As he saw John walked down the street he scanned the people walking down the block. “Look at that Mrs. Hudson, Violet.” Sherlock said to the both of them, “Quiet, calm… peaceful… Isn’t it hateful?”

 

“Violet would know about that.” His sister replied simply, “After all she is speaking from experience.”

 

Although Mrs. Hudson on the other hand had said, “Oh I’m sure something will turn up. A nice murder just for the both of you--That’ll cheer you right up.”

 

“Can’t come too soon.” He simply said.

 

Mrs. Hudson noticed the damage on the wall. “What have you both done to my bloody wall!?” She said. All Sherlock did was smirk while Violet gave an innocent look to her. “I’m putting this on your rent young man!” With that she went down the stairs.

 

Sherlock couldn’t help but grin over at the bullet-riddled smiley face. Violet sighed and walked over to her brother. “Well, now this one and Sherlock got in trouble with Mrs. Hudson.” Violet said to him, “Things can’t get any worse.”

 

Sherlock turned to his sister. “Careful what you--”

 

**BOOM!**

 

An explosion, literally right in front of their flat caused the both of them to fall right on the floor.

 

A piercing sound rang through their ears, and a car alarm was just heard outside.

 


	22. The Sound of Pips

- **_10 Years Ago_ ** _ - _

 

_ Two days had passed since Cathy returned from her tour, and everything at the house seem to get a whole lot brighter. For two whole days Violet stuck to Cathy like a fly paper. She even slept in her mom and dad's room; they didn’t mind it much.  Today they were out for a picnic in there favorite spot just under a single tree on the hill. Violet was looking at all the flowers, that were growing, and she was currently looking at a beautiful butterfly that had blue wings. At one point the butterfly started to crawl up on her small arm though she didn’t mind it at all in. She looked at the butterfly with awe, having never seen a butterfly as beautiful as the one standing still on her arm.  _

 

_ It wasn’t long till she heard her father calling out to her, “Violet! Come on luv, it’s almost lunch time!”  _

 

_ “Okay!” Violet said.  _

 

_ That was when the butterfly flew off her arm.  _

 

_ “Hey, wait come back!” Violet said chasing the butterfly. She ran after the butterfly straight down the hill .  _

 

_ “Wait come back! Mummy and Daddy haven’t seen you yet!”  _

 

_ Soon enough she tripped and fell right on her face. She got up and groaned as she rubbed her cheeks, “Owie... that hurt…”  _

 

_ It wasn’t long till she heard the sound of a bird nearby, and what appeared to be a squishing sound. It was coming from where the tall grass was. Curiosity filled the young girl’s head, and she walked towards the sound. When she moved the tall grass, she let out a gasp as she was horrified by what she saw.  _

 

_ A large black bird, had peaked at a bird much smaller than itself. The small bird’s feathers were covered in red, and the little one was paralyzed with fear.  _

 

_ The black bird had stopped and appeared to be eyeing the little one in particular. Violet couldn’t help but back away from it; her body shook. The little one was startled when the bird had suddenly spread it’s wings and flew off, causing Violet to fall backwards and let out a squeak.  _

 

_ She soon heard her father and mother running towards her. “Violet!” Her mother Cathy called out, “There you are, you know better than to go running off on your own like that.”  _ __   
  


_ Violet turned to her, “Sorry mummy. Violet didn’t mean too.” She said.  _

 

_ Michael noticed her trembling slightly, “Sweetheart what is it?”  _

 

_ “There was a butterfly, on my shoulder…” Violet replied, “Violet wanted to show mummy and daddy but it flew away. Than I saw a large black bird; it was peaking at the small bird.”  _

 

_ Cathy and Michael looked to the tall grass and saw the dead bird. Of course from their little ones description of the large black bird, she had described it to be a crow.  _

 

_ “Why was it peaking at the small bird?” Violet asked her parents, “Why was it doing that?”  _

 

_ Cathy sighed and reassured the little one, “Don’t worry about it alright? For now, let’s go and have ourselves some lunch. And if you finish your plate, we’ll stop for some desert on the way home.”  _

 

_ Violet smiled and nodded at that, “Okay!”   _

 

_ The three of them went back up the hill, but Violet couldn’t help but look to the small little bird laying still before it had disappeared in the tall grass. _

* * *

 

- **_Present_ ** ;  **_The Next Morning_ ** -

 

John awoke groaning as he did, since he had fallen asleep on the couch. Sarah had come into the living room, wearing a light pink dressing gown. “Morning.” She said. 

 

“Oh mor…” John said getting him cut off when he felt pain in his neck, “Morning.” 

 

“See? Told you should’ve gone with the lilo.” Sarah said to him. 

 

John had replied, “No, no, no, it’s fine. I slept fine, it’s very kind of you.” 

 

Sarah reached for the TV remote that was just next to John. When she had gotten a hold of it, she switched on the television; the first thing that came on was the local news. 

 

“Well maybe the next time I’ll let you kip at the end of my bed.” Sarah said to him, suggestively. 

 

“What about the time before that?” John asked her. 

 

Sarah grinned at him briefly before turning her attention to what was on the television; which was talking about a painting called “ **_The Last Vermeer_ ** ”. After awhile Sarah had asked John, “So, d’you want some breakfast?” 

 

“Love some.” John replied. 

 

“Well you better make it yourself, because I’m gonna have a shower!” Sarah said with a smile, while leaving the room. John chuckled slightly before going to fix up the buttons on his shirt. Just as he was finishing that up, the main story of what was happening on the news came on. His eyes were filled with shock as the captions read, “House destroyed on Baker Street”.

  
  


“ **_There has been a massive explosion in Central London_ ** .” The person on the news said, “ **_As yet there are no reports of any casualties, and the police are unable to say if there is any suspicion of terrorists involvement._ ** ” 

 

Immediately John went to grab his jacket and hurried out the door. 

 

“Sarah!” He called out, “Sarah! Sorry I’ve gotta run!”

* * *

 

- **_221B Baker Street_ ** -

 

When John had gotten there, he couldn’t believe the damage that had been done. The flat just across from where he, his flatmate, and younger sister lived was just right in front of them. What if they were hurt? Or worse killed? All of these thoughts went through his mind. He pushed himself through the crowd of people with a fast pace. When he had gotten through, he saw that first floor windows were boarded up with wood as well as the upstairs where he lived with the two siblings. 

 

After telling the Officer that he lived there, he ran up the stairs. 

 

“Sherlock! Violet!” He called out. 

 

He had entered the living room, was not only surprised to see that Sherlock ( ** _Wearing a purple shirt with an unbuttoned jacket and black trousers_** ) and Violet ( ** _Who wore a black short hoodie with the sleeves dived showing her skin with a tank top under it_** **_and a pair of black jean pants up to mid thigh with a pair of dark grey leggings. She also had on a pair of fingerless gloves with a skull design on it_** ) sat there unharmed, but their brother, Mycroft was just sitting across from Sherlock. Though Violet appeared to have bandages wrapped around her head.

 

Sherlock had his violin to his chest and was playing a few random notes. He looked over at John, “John.” He greeted.

 

“This one says hello to John.” Violet said to him. 

 

“I saw what happened on the telly.” John said, “Are you both alright?” 

 

“Hmm, what?” Sherlock before looking around the flat, “Oh right, we’re fine, we’re both fine. Gas leak, apparently.” Sherlock turned back to Mycroft. John noticed the bandage, “Violet your hurt!” He said with worry.

 

“This one is alright.” Violet reassured John, while patting herself on the head, “They told Violet there was nothing to worry about.” 

 

“I can’t.” They heard Sherlock say to Mycroft. 

 

“Can’t?” Mycroft said questioningly.

 

Sherlock replied, “The stuff that we both have is just too big. I’m afraid I can’t spare the time.” 

 

“Never mind your usual trivia.” Mycroft said, “This is of national importance.” 

 

He flicked his fingers across the strings; his palm rested on his instrument. “How’s the diet?” Sherlock asked rudely. 

 

“Brother!” Violet said while punching his arm, “Don’t be rude.” 

 

“Fine.” Mycroft replied to Sherlock, before turning his attention to John, “Perhaps you can get through to him John.” 

 

“What?” John said while raising an eyebrow. 

 

“I’m afraid my brother can be very intransigent.” He said to John. 

 

“That’s not surprising.” Violet couldn’t help but mumble which earned a glare from her brother. “If you’re so keen why don’t you investigate it?” Sherlock asked his brother. 

 

Mycroft had replied, “No-no-no-no. I can’t possibly be away from the office for any length of time--Not with the Korean election… Well, than again you don’t need to know about that don’t you? Besides a case like this requires… Legwork.” 

 

Violet turned to John and asked John to divert the conversation, “How was Sarah?” 

 

“She’s good.” John replied. 

 

“How was the lilo?” Sherlock asked. 

 

Mycroft took out his pocket watch to check the time, “Sofa Sherlock, it was the sofa.” 

 

“He’s right you know.” Violet said to him. 

 

Sherlock glanced over John, “Yes of course.” 

 

John’s jaw dropped at this, “How did you--Nevermind.” He sat down on the couch. 

 

“Sherlock’s business seems to booming since you and my brother and sister became pals.” Mycroft said, “What are they like to live with? Hellish, I imagine.” 

 

“Well, I’m never bored.” John replied. 

 

Mycroft seem to smile at this, “Good, that’s good isn’t it?” 

 

Mycroft took out a folder and handed it over to Sherlock; though he seemed to ignore it and refused to take the folder from him. Mycroft handed the folder over to Violet and she took it; she looked through it, before handing it to John. 

 

“Andrew West.” Mycroft began to explain, “Also known as Westie to his friends. Civil servant. Found dead on the tracks at Battersea Station this morning with his head smashed in.” 

 

“Did he jump in front of the train?” John asked, skimming through the information. 

 

“Seems to be the logical assumption.” Mycroft replied. 

 

“But?” 

 

“But?” 

 

“Well, you wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t an accident.” 

 

Violet than asked Mycroft, “What did Andrew have on him that was an important?”  

 

Mycroft replied, “A new missile defence system that the MOD was working on; The Bruce-Partington Program it’s called. The plans for it were on a memory stick.” 

 

“That wasn’t very clever.” John commented.

 

“It’s not the only copy.” Mycroft added, “But it is secret, and  **_missing_ ** .” 

 

“Top secret?” 

 

“Very. We think that West must’ve taken the memory stick. We can’t possibly risk it falling into the wrong hands.” 

 

Mycroft turned to his younger brother, “You’ve got to find those plans Sherlock. Don’t make me order you.” 

 

“I like to see you try.” Sherlock said, resting his violin on his shoulder. 

 

“Think it over.” Mycroft said, turning to John than his sister, “Goodbye John, Violet. I’ll see you both very soon.”

 

Mycroft went to get his jacket, and that’s when Sherlock began to play a single note on his violin. He stopped when Mycroft headed out the door. 

 

“This one says, see you this Saturday!” Violet called out to Mycroft. They heard the front door close shut. John sat back in the couch. 

 

“Why did you lie?” John asked Sherlock getting his attention, “You’ve got nothing on. Not a single case, that’s why you and Violet took it out on the wall. Why did you tell your brother you were busy?” 

 

“Why shouldn’t I?” Was all Sherlock asked. 

 

John seemed to put together what he was saying, “Oh, I see. Sibling Rivalry. Now we’re getting somewhere.” 

 

“Believe Violet when she says that’s one of the reasons.” Violet said. 

 

Just than they heard a phone ring; It was coming from Sherlock’s phone. He took it out from his pocket and answered it. 

 

“Hello?” Sherlock said; his eyes had soon widened, “Yes, of course. How could I refuse?” He soon hung up and got up from his seat. He grabbed his coat from the hanger and Violets throwing to her. 

 

“What’s going on?” John asked. 

 

“It’s Lestrade we’ve been summoned.” Sherlock replied, putting on his scarf. Violet put on her coat and scarf and took her bag. “Is John coming?” Violet asked John. 

 

“If you guys want me to.” John said. 

 

“Of course.” Sherlock said, “We’d be lost without our blogger.” 

 

Thus, after John got his jacket they left the flat hailing a cab.

* * *

 

- **_New Scotland Yard_ ** -

 

The three of them followed Lestrade to his office as he explained the situation to them. 

 

“You and your sister like the funny cases don’t you? The surprising ones.” Lestrade said. 

 

“Obviously.” Sherlock replied. 

 

“Than you’ll love this.” Lestrade said, “That explosion.” 

 

Violet said, “That was a gas leak, what about it?” 

 

“No, that wasn’t caused by a gas leak.” Lestrade said. 

 

“What?” The siblings, John included couldn’t help but say in unison. 

 

Lestrade clarified as the group entered the office, “It was made to look like one. There was hardly anything left in the place, except a strong box. A **_very_** strong box. And inside it was this.” 

 

Lestrade went to his desk; In his hand there was an envelope. On the envelope it had read, “Sherlock & Violet Holmes”. He handed to Sherlock and he took it from him; Violet leaned over to look at the envelope. 

 

“Did Lestrade tried to open?” Violet asked. 

 

“It’s addressed to you two isn’t it?” Lestrade said, “We’ve x-rayed it it’s not booby trapped.” 

 

“How reassuring.” Sherlock said sarcastically. 

 

Sherlock and his younger sister looked over the envelope as well as the handwriting. 

 

“Nice stationary.” Sherlock complemented, “Bohemian.” 

 

“What?” Lestrade said questioningly. 

 

“Brother is saying the envelope is from the Czech Republic.” Violet clarified, “Did Lestrade find any fingerprints?” 

 

“No.” Lestrade replied. 

 

Sherlock soon said looking over the envelope, “She used a fountain pen. Parker Duofold, Meridian nib.” 

 

“Wait she?” John said. 

 

“It’s obvious.” Sherlock simply replied. Finally Sherlock opened the envelope, and poured out the continents. Inside the envelope, it was revealed to be a pink phone. “Well there’s a familiar face.” Violet said. 

 

“That’s…” John said, “That’s the pink phone.” 

 

“From the Study in Pink case?” Lestrade said. 

 

“Well it’s obviously not the same phone, but it’s most likely--” Sherlock said. Sherlock and Violet did a double take at this, when they heard a familiar name. “Does Lestrade read his blog?” Violet asked. 

 

“Of I course I do.” Lestrade replied, “We all read his blog. Is it true your brother doesn’t know that the Earth goes around the sun?” 

 

Donovan let a snicker, causing Violet to glare over in her direction. Sherlock rolled his eyes before he said, “As I was saying, it isn’t the same phone. This one’s brand new. Though someone's gone through a lot of trouble making them.” He took a moment to turn to John, “Which means  **_YOUR_ ** blog, has far wider relationship.” 

 

Violet soon noticed something on the phone. “Brother, there’s a message.” Violet said pressing on the button phone. 

 

“ _ You have one, new message _ .” The phone said. Soon after the messages was heard, they heard pip sounds. A total of five to be exact. After the pips were heard, they saw an image appeared. It looked like a location; it looked like an apartment complex of some kind.

 

“That was five pips just now.” Violet had said. 

 

“Was that it?” John asked. 

 

“No.” Sherlock replied, “That’s not it.” 

 

“Well, what are we supposed to make of that?” Lestrade said, “An estate agent’s photo and the bloody Greenwich pips?” 

 

Violet looked to her brother, and Sherlock looked to her. “Is brother thinking the same thing Violet is?” She asked. 

 

“Oh yes he is.” Sherlock said to Violet, before saying to John and Lestrade, “This isn’t a message,  **_it’s a warning_ ** .” 

 

“A warning?” John asked looking confused. 

 

“Some secret societies used to send dried melon seeds, orange pips, things like that, five pips.” Sherlock said to them, “ **_They’re warning us it’s going to happen again._ ** ” 

 

“Brother, this one knows that place.” Violet said. 

 

“I know I’ve seen this place too.” Sherlock said. 

 

The two siblings went straight out of the office; John and Lestrade soon followed behind them. “Hang on what are you saying?” John asked, “What’s going to happen again?” 

 

“ **BOOM!** ” Violet said making an explosion with her hands.

* * *

 

- **_Baker Street 221C_ ** -

 

The four of them had arrived at Baker Street, to where Sherlock, John and Violet had usually stayed, but instead of going up to their usual flat, they had gone to the flat that was below and was currently vacant. That was the complex known as 221C. Violet had quickly asked for Mrs. Hudson to get the flat open, since she was the one who had the key. Mrs. Hudson had gotten the key, and handed it over to Sherlock. 

 

“You had a look didn’t you Sherlock?” Mrs. Hudson said, “When you first came to see about your flat?” 

 

“The doors been open.” Sherlock said putting the key in the lock, “Recently.” 

 

“That can’t be, that’s the only key.” Mrs. Hudson said. 

 

Sherlock had gotten the door open and as Mrs. Hudson started to ramble they had quickly entered the vacant flat, with Violet heading down the stairs first. When she entered the living area, she was confused as to when she found shoes just sitting alone in the middle of the room. Sherlock, John, and Lestrade entered the room as well, and they saw the pair of shoes as well. 

 

“Shoes…?” Violet said tilting her head to the side. 

 

Sherlock went to approach the shoes. “Careful.” John said to Sherlock, “He’s a bomber, remember?” 

 

He nodded as he went towards the shoes once more, motioning for Violet to stay back. He went low to the ground, laying on his stomach, looking closely at the shoes and--

 

**RING! RING! RING!**

 

Everyone jumped slightly when a phone had started to ring, filling the silence in the room. They were quick to realize, that it wasn’t from any of their own phones, but from the pink phone look alike that they had picked up earlier in a single envelope. Sherlock stood up and took the phone out from his pocket checking the caller ID; the caller ID had read blocked. 

 

Despite this, he took the call but had put it on speaker. 

 

“... Hello?” He said after a moment of silence. 

 

A voice came from the other line. 

 

“ _ H--Hello… Sexy. _ ” A woman had said, sounding strangely frightened. 

 

“Who is Violet and Sherlock talking to?” Violet asked the person. 

 

The woman let out a sob, before replying, “ _ I’ve sent you… And your brother… _ **_A little puzzle_ ** _ … Just to say hi _ **_…_ ** ”

 

“Who’s talking?” Sherlock asked, “Why are you crying?” 

 

The woman sniffled before replying, “ _ I’m not crying…  _ **_I’m typing_ ** _ … And this… Stupid bitch is reading it out.”  _

 

“Brother…” Violet said. 

 

“I know.” Sherlock said to her, “...  **_The curtain rises._ ** ” 

 

John and Lestrade looked at one another, not necessarily hearing him. “Sorry, what was that?” John said. Sherlock turned to him before replying, “... I’ve been expecting this for sometime.” 

 

“What do you want from brother and Violet?” Violet had asked the caller. 

 

The woman replied, through her tears, “...  _ 12 hours… 12 hours… For you, and your brother… To solve my puzzle… Or I’m going to be…  _ **_So naughty_ ** _ …”  _

 

And just like that, the woman hung up, leaving them in silence once again. 


End file.
